When All Are One and One Is All
by halfasblind
Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship. LP NH SB
1. Like Gasoline on Flames

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: I wrote off canon One Tree Hill fic years ago, but then "The Birth and Death of the Day" happened and I was upset, to put it mildly. The writers could've gone a different direction, could've given Lucas a different path. But they didn't. And that was just tragic. So then I got this idea in my head and it was not to be ignored. The title is snagged from Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". It seemed fitting.

—

**00. Like Gasoline on Flames** (Prologue)

Bounding into his apartment, sweating and panting from his morning run, Lucas Scott welcomed the rowdy atmosphere, the atypical morning around the Scott house. The television was blaring from the living room, the cartoons marring any other sounds that could be heard throughout the rest of the apartment.

He toed off his shoes and pulled off his hoodie, throwing it haphazardly on the bench beside the front door. He untucked his shirt, wincing as Haley's loud voice streamed in from the kitchen. She was talking on the phone and had resorted to yelling over the roar of the TV. She pointed toward the living room and he nodded his head in understanding.

He crossed into the adjoining room, grabbing the remote control off the coffee table to turn down the volume. The volume decreased and peace was restored. The preschoolers sitting on the floor weren't pleased by his action, however. James and Lily turned to glare at him, but once they saw it was him their expressions softened, their little mouths twisting into smiles.

He fell onto the sofa, patting his sides, beckoning them. They scrambled to their feet and ran to meet him. Lucas hefted them onto the sofa with him, watching as they curled up on either side of him. "So what are we watching?" he asked, fully prepared for the rambling dual explanation that followed from both.

After the enticing and equally exciting episode of Spongebob had concluded, Lucas left James and Lily on the sofa and adjourned into the kitchen where Haley was just finishing breakfast, having had concluded her phone conversation.

"Thank you for getting them settled," she thanked him, swatting his hand when he stole a slice of bacon off the tray that she was transporting to the table.

"I told you to hide the remote, Hales." He knew that Lily especially had a penchant for turning the TV up to its maximum level. He constantly fussed at her about it, but still she kept on doing it. It had become so habitual that he'd resorted to hiding the remote control from her. Unfortunately she was so attuned to the goings on around her, she knew all of his hiding places therefore located the remote every damn time.

Haley set the tray of bacon on the table between the pan of biscuits and the jars of jellies — grape for him and strawberry for James and Lily. "I swear they're exactly like us when we were that age."

Lucas fumbled through the cabinets for a coffee mug. He plucked one out as he told her, "Hey, I was only bad because you corrupted me."

Haley poked him in his side playfully as he poured coffee into his 'Decaffeinated Coffee!! Useless Brown Water' mug. Haley had forced him to switch to decaffeinated coffee after his heart attack back in high school. For Christmas that year she'd bought him the funny mug. Her wit was astounding.

"Get the kids in here," she told him, crossing to the refrigerator to get the carton of orange juice.

"Hey munchkins!" Lucas yelled. "It's time for breakfast." As Lucas settled at the table, he heard the clicking off of the TV followed by the patter of little feet as James and Lily ran in from the living room. They took seat on either side of Lucas, quiet and waiting patiently for their juice.

"Why can't you two be that good for me?" Haley asked them, setting the carton of orange juice on the table.

James was the first to speak, holding his cup out to her. "Well cuz if we're bad for Uncle Luke it'll hurt his heart." Haley gaped while James looked at Lucas, shooting him a thumbs up.

Haley shook her head, filling the children's glasses with juice. "Unbelievable," she muttered, taking her seat across from Lucas. "Okay, guys. Dig in." She watched as the two children dug into their food, biscuits crumbs and jelly splattering on the placemats. Haley tore her eyes away from the children, looking to Lucas who was staring down at his empty plate, obviously lost in thought. She knew that he was pretty wary for the weekend reunion. She wasn't looking forward to it, either, but then again she wasn't going to be seeing an ex like Lucas was. "So…," she began warily, "do you think everyone is going to show up tomorrow night?"

Lucas shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it." Haley gave him a disbelieving look. It was a moot point lying to her and he should know better than to even try. After all she knew him best.

Yes, he was nervous about seeing Peyton again after all this time and he was doing his best not to let it show. But Haley knew him so well that he didn't have to show it; he just had to feel it and she just knew.

"You're such a liar," Haley said, sitting back in her chair. She crossed her arms in front of her, glaring at Lucas from her side of the table. He sipped at his coffee and said nothing as he often did.

But what he didn't say was said by someone else. "That's not polite, Mom," James pointed out to her, waving a slice of bacon with one hand.

"Yeah, Aunt Haley," Lily added, shaking her tiny pink polished fingernail at Haley. "You're not supposed to call someone a liar."

Haley glanced from James to Lily, shaking her head in disgust. She couldn't win for losing whenever Lucas was around. He was their hero; though, as heroes went, they couldn't have a better one, she thought fondly.

Lucas snickered from his side of the table, lifting his hands to high five James and Lily. The three of them shared a giggle to which Haley couldn't help but join in on. It was fruitless to find the three of them anything short of adorable.

After breakfast had been cleared away and the kids had been shipped back into the living room and settled with a movie, Lucas and Haley moved outside. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the weather was warm, it was hard to not enjoy it.

They settled onto the wrought iron chairs that were littered around the circular table. Lucas settled into a chair and propped his feet on the metal railing, crisscrossing his hands behind his head. "Okay. Out with it." He knew that Haley had been waiting to ream him with questions, but had only refused herself due to the children butting in during breakfast. They always had to have their adult conversations out of earshot of James and Lily; the two of them tended to add their two cents whether they knew what was going on or not.

"I don't want you to lie to yourself, Lucas," she began hesitantly, "I know that you want to see her, but I also know that you're probably scared to see her, too. You've both changed over the past few years." She touched his knee. "You, for the better." She paused for a moment, looked away. "I see a lot of Keith in you."

He smiled at that, taking it as a compliment which he was sure had been her intention. "It's not that I don't want to see her. I wouldn't know what to say to her if I did see her." He had gone over that conversation so many times in his head but he had no doubt that the real thing would be a hundred times more excruciating than what he had imagined.

"Do you still think…?" Haley began but trailed off. She didn't need to fully formulate the question; Lucas knew exactly what she was asking.

"I don't know. Sometimes. I guess on some unconscious level I have been waiting if my dating record for the past few years is any indication." He turned his head toward Haley. "But I have Lily to think of now. A reconciliation with Peyton is just…," his words caught and disappeared into the air. "I can't have her walking in and out or our lives as she so pleases. My mom didn't allow it with me and I'm not going to do that to Lily."

Haley twisted in her seat to look through the glass of the sliding glass door at the children. They were stretched out on the floor in front of the television, their eyes glued to Finding Nemo.

"I just want you to be happy, Luke and you were at your happiest when you were with Peyton. You've lost a lot these last few years and I think if you can get something back, then you should at least try." Lucas opened his mouth to say something, but Haley held up her hands, shushing him. "I know, I know. Haley, butt out. I am. You sit here and brood and I'm going to go dress the kids and get them ready to go to the park." She stood up, asking, "You're coming with us, aren't you?"

Lucas nodded his head. "Yeah. I'll be inside in a sec."

Lucas sat staring off into space long after Haley had disappeared into the apartment. She was right. He had lost a lot the last few years. First Keith then Peyton and then his mom. Lily, James and Haley were the only bright spots left in his life of darkness.

He wouldn't make a decision now. He would wait and see if Peyton would even bother to show up at the Rivercourt tomorrow night when everyone was scheduled to meet.

Then and only then he would decide if he was done waiting.

—

Peyton Sawyer stared at her empty suitcase, knowing full well that she should've been packed long before now. She was going home to Tree Hill for the first time in four years and she was scared shitless. She was scared about the memories that would bombard her being back in her hometown, around her friends, around him.

She was going home for good this time, though no one knew that yet. Not even Brooke. She was hesitant enough to return for Skills and Bevin's wedding, but going home to go home? That was scaring her the most.

Peyton chewed on her fingernails, her eyes shooting between her bare travel bag to her bedside clock to take in the boxes littering her apartment. Her plane was leaving in less than two hours. She needed to get a move on.

Yet, she procrastinated.

Her eyes shifted to her nightstand, focusing on her beside clock. Then they slid to the framed photograph that had sat by her bed for the past four years, the one that she stared at every night when she climbed into the bed, the one that was a constant reminder of the life that she left behind in Tree Hill.

She crossed the room, plucking up the silver plated photograph, staring down at the happiness etched on their faces.

Things were supposed to be different for them. They were supposed to be like Nathan and Haley. Together, and happy.

But then she'd gone to Los Angeles and the distance had taken a toll on them. They'd agreed that it was for the best and parted on good terms, though that wasn't to say that they had stayed in touch the last four years.

She remembered him telling her that he would wait as long as it would take. She wondered if he had. A part of her hoped that he had, but then there was that other part, the part that hoped that he hadn't. Lucas deserved so much more than she could offer, but yet she still hoped, still wanted.

Sighing, she plucked her cell phone from off the bed, speed dialed four and waited. The line was picked up on the second ring; she must've been waiting. "Okay what is your trauma now, P. Sawyer?" Brooke spat into the phone.

Even though her relationship with Lucas had crashed and burned her friendship with Brooke was stronger than ever. Brooke had been there to mend her broken heart after she and Lucas had ended their relationship and had stuck by her side through the later events, the events that had kept her from returning to Tree Hill and to Lucas.

Peyton fell down onto her bed, huffing, "I don't know what to pack."

"Unless you plan on seducing Lucas while we're home, I'm gonna have to suggest clothes," Brooke teased, busily packing her own suitcase. "Honey, why are you freaking out over this so much. It's just a weekend. It's not like he's gonna…," Brooke trailed off, her words catching on her tongue. The last thing that she wanted to do was upset Peyton anymore than she already was and talking about It would only do that.

Peyton silenced for a moment, realizing what it was that Brooke was going to say. They rarely talked about what had happened after her breakup with Lucas. It was still painful to think about; it was even more so to live through. "It's Lucas, Brooke," she pointed out wryly as if that explained everything. Which, now that she thought about it, it pretty much did — or, well, it should.

"The Lucas that you're still in love with?" Lucas and Peyton had agreed mutually that breaking up would be best for the both of them since they were on opposites sides of the U.S. However, that didn't mean that their feelings for one another simply went away. Hell, even throughout her relationship with Lucas their feelings for each other had never changed. Then again there was always some part of her that had known (even unconsciously) that Lucas belonged with Peyton; it had taken Peyton a little longer than everyone else to realize what everyone else had known all along.

Peyton sighed, ignoring her best friend. Yes, she still loved Lucas. However, that didn't mean that she was ready to jumpstart a relationship. Her life was in L.A. now and Luke's would forever be in Tree Hill. That was the cold reality that she had spent the last four years coming to grips with. Their lives no longer meshed therefore how could they?

"Look, Peyton, this is something that you have to face head-on. Once you see him it'll all be clear."

"What will be?" Peyton asked, confused as to where Brooke was heading.

"You. Him. Your relationship. You can deny it all you want, but you love him and you miss him and all you want is for him to tell you that he wants you back."

Peyton gnawed on her bottom lip as she stared up at the ceiling, Brooke's words ringing true in her head. As much as she hated to admit it, Brooke was right. She loved her work, but who was she kidding? It all meant naught if she couldn't share it with Lucas. He was the one person that had always believed in her, who always forced her to tackle her dreams head-on.

She sat up and slid off her bed. She crossed her bedroom toward her closet, pushing the doors open. She reached for the light on the wall, flipping it up. Her closet flooded with light as she said into the phone, "So I was thinking of bringing that little black dress that you made me…," she said, grinning to herself, despite the nervous flip of her stomach.


	2. Reeling and Shaking and Leaping

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: I apologize for leaving some things unanswered in the prologue. They've been answered in this chapter so to answer the questions that most had: Yes, Karen is dead and how she died shall be explained in a later chapter. Yes, Nathan is alive and his absence is explained (also, he and Haley are very much together).

—

**01. Reeling and Shaking and Leaping**

Lucas woke to the sound of the phone ringing, the sharp shrill pulling him out of his peaceful slumber. He groaned, stretched and rolled over to look at the clock. It wasn't even six o'clock yet! Grunting, he fumbled through the darkness for the cordless phone on his nightstand, plucking it from its the receiver. "Hullo?" he slurred sleepily into the phone. 

"I got it, Luke," Haley informed him through the phone. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Nathan, I swear I am going to beat your ass when I see you," Lucas warned, hearing his brother's chuckle and apology as he clicked off the phone then tossed it onto the floor. He pulled his pillow over his head, fully intending to go back to sleep. He still had a good fifteen to spare and he was going to take advantage of every single second.

His eyelids had barely closed when he heard the creak of his bedroom door. He began counting to five in his head, but got as far as thee when Lily poked her head underneath his pillow. "Luke," she whispered, drawing out his name in her sweet little drawl. "Are you awake?"

"No," came his muffled reply. He should've been used to this by now. Houseguests aside, Lily was always in his room at sunrise. Usually she would just climb into bed with him and lay quietly until his alarm went off at six-fifteen. Not this morning, however. This morning no one wanted him to sleep. That much was obvious.

He'd known this day was coming for weeks now and it hadn't bothered him until recently. When Haley had arrived on Tuesday from Charlotte he thought that they were going to have a few stress-free days together before all the wedding activities got underway.

Unfortunately his best friend had arrived with the intent on reminding him day after day that he would be seeing Peyton that weekend. Like he could forget.

Usually he could go days without thinking about her, without reaching for his wallet and unearthing the pictures of her he kept tucked behind pictures of Lily. He could go to bed at night without dreaming of her or waking up in the morning reaching out for her. But then Haley had brought with her the past and everything that went with it and those days had flittered into the wind.

Last night he'd gone to bed with several days worth of conversations with Haley swirling about his head, most, if not all, that revolved around Peyton. He'd dreamed a dozen different ways how their meeting would go. Some fared out better than others and in one or two she hadn't shown up alone. His greatest fear was that she'd show up with a fiancé (or worse, a husband) and prove to him that she had moved on when he couldn't, when he wouldn't.

Lucas snaked his arm out from beneath his pillow to pat Lily's head. "Go back to bed, Lils," he urged her way in attempt to get a few extra minutes of sleep before his alarm buzzed and he would have to face the day from _Hell_.

Lily huffed, rounding the bed to the other side. She climbed in bed with Lucas, sliding in next to him, sticking her head underneath the pillow with his.

Luke snapped his eyes open, rolling his head toward Lily, looking into his baby sister's bright brown eyes. "I thought I told you to go back to bed."

"James is snoring," she told him, sighing dramatically. "And he sounds just like Uncle Nate," she whispered, cupping her hand around her mouth, even though they were alone in the room.

Lucas laughed, flipping over onto his back. He pulled her against his side, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Well, he won't be here for much longer. You'll only have to share your room with him a few more days and then he and Haley will be going home."

"When's Uncle Nate be here, Luke?" she asked, sitting up to pierce him with a hardened stare.

"He's flying in this afternoon," Lucas told her, reaching forward to tuck her hair behind her ear.

Lucas noted the faraway look in her eye, the look that usually came just before she asked some big important question. He didn't miss it, either. What came next was, "Can we go see mommy today?"

"Sure," he said without a moment's hesitation. They usually made it a point to stop by the cemetery at least once a week. Unfortunately things had been so hectic lately with work and school and Lily's numerous after school activities that he barely had time to think straight much less swing by the cemetery. Her activities filled his days, though. He had no time to think about what was missing in his life. He only thought about those things whenever he was around Haley and Nathan. It was hard not to, though. He'd been envious of Haley and Nathan's relationship since high school; his jealousy had increased tenfold since then.

When his alarm clock began wailing from his bedside, Lucas reached out to silence it. But it was too late. The rest of the house had awoken and the day was officially started.

He had barely tapped the snooze when Haley walked in, followed by James, both of them moving across the room to join he and Lily on the bed. "So I talked to Nathan," she said, handing him a fresh cup of coffee. He didn't know what he was going to do when she went back to Charlotte; he'd gotten spoiled to having her around for the past few days. He got spoiled when she was around period.

Lucas took a sip of his coffee, then asked, "So when's his flight getting in?"

"This afternoon at five. I figured I'd pick you up from practice and then we could all head over there."

Lucas nodded, but once her words sunk in, his head snapped up to her, balking, "Wait. What? You're commandeering my truck? Since when?"

"Since I'm having lunch with Bevin. Plus, I have to do a final dress fitting and James has to do a final fitting for his tuxedo. Besides I figured I'd pick up Lily from school so you can give your sitter the day off. I'm sure you work that poor girl ragged," she teased lightly.

Lucas pursed his lips. It was true that Claudia could use a day off. And his truck stayed parked all day at the school anyway and who was he to refuse Haley anything? "Okay. But only if you bring me lunch."

"Done."

Lucas swung his legs over the side of the bed, setting his coffee on his nightstand. "Alright, it's time for you all to clear out. I have to get ready for work." Lucas pushed himself to his feet, holding his arms out to Lily to help her off the bed.

She hopped into his arms, kissing his cheek and wishing him good morning before he set her on her feet and she followed James into the living room. Lucas called Haley back when she began inching toward the door. "I'm taking Lily to the cemetery after school. You wouldn't mind if I drop you off back here, would you?"

"Of course not. How long has it been since you've gone?"

"Too long."

—

"I'm so glad you're here, Haley," Bevin told her as they left the dress shop later that morning. The morning spent with Bevin had been surprisingly enjoyable. Not that Bevin was ever not enjoyable. She was quirky and that was one of the things they all loved about her. She was a total mismatch for Skills but that's why they worked and if she truly wanted to be honest she couldn't see Skills with anyone else.

Though she wasn't a fan of the sash on the waist of the bridesmaid dress, Haley had to admit that the blue metallic color was just beautiful. It was so… _Bevin_. The bride-to-be had confessed to choosing a bright aqua color at first which both her maid-of-honor and groom-to-be had scoffed at. However, both were pleasantly pleased with the new coloring. She was, too. Aqua would've been way too loud. Even for Bevin.

"Like I'd miss your wedding."

Bevin let out a deep, frustrated breath. "I meant with the whole Lucas and Peyton thing. You're my friend and she's my friend and you're Luke's friend and you're Skills's friend… it makes the whole thing really awkward for everybody.

"Yeah, it really is, but we'll all get through it. _They'll_ get through it." They crossed the street back to their respective vehicles, James walking quietly between them. "Speaking of," Haley said as she approached Luke's truck, "Is she coming?"

"As far as I know. I spoke to Brooke last night and she said that Peyton was having trouble packing or whatever." Then, the bride-to-be in Bevin kicked in. "She's _gotta_ to come. She's walking with Junk! I won't have backups or replacements if she chickens out because of Lucas!"

Haley put her hand on Bevin's shoulder, reassuring her, "I'm sure that she's going to show up, Bevin. No matter what went on between her and Lucas, Peyton wouldn't miss your wedding." That seemed to help smooth over Bevin's impulsive freak out.

Bevin backed up toward her black Lexus, saying, "So I'll see you tonight?"

"Of course," Haley said with an impish grin. "I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again."

"Even Rachel?"

Haley laughed, shuffling James into the backseat of Luke's truck. "Even Rachel."

—

Lucas was sitting on the bleachers, blowing his whistle, watching his basketball players do their suicides. Practice was his favorite time of day. He interacted with his players during the day in the hallway, but it was in here that he got to torment them. He'd had a good teacher. He thought of Whitey and blew his whistle once more, watching them run the length of the gym, heaving and puffing from having to run conditioning drills all afternoon.

When he heard the door being dragged open, Lucas snapped his head in that direction. The mid-afternoon sunlight filtered in as Lily ran through the doors. "Luke!" she called out, her ponytail swinging behind her, waving to the players as she made her way across the floor toward him.

He blew his whistle one last time, instructing the boys to head to the showers. They waved to Lily and she waved back, reciting each of their names as they passed her.

"Obviously she's here _way_ too often," Haley said as she approached, holding on tightly to James' hand.

Lucas hopped off the bleachers, scooping Lily into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and tickled her stomach, asking, "How was school, kiddo?"

Lily frowned, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, "A boy kissed me." She then reared back, giggling, her tiny hands bunching in front of her mouth.

Luke's eyes widened. "No!" he said, feigning disbelief. "Do you want me to go beat him up?"  
Lily shook her head, her ponytail slapping into his face. "Okay. Then I won't." He shifted her onto his hip, turning to Haley. "Thanks for picking her up for me. Claudia is busy studying for finals and though she assures me that Lily is no trouble, she was glad for the afternoon off."

"It was no problem." Remembering something, Haley snapped her fingers. "Oh, that reminds me! I'm glad you mentioned her because I'd almost forgotten. She called and she can't baby-sit tonight. Something about her mom working and her having to baby-sit her brother and sister. She was talking too fast for me to catch everything."

Lucas wasn't surprised. He was used to Claudia canceling on him at the last minute. It'd been that way since he'd hired her. Though, that's why he had a backup. And luckily his backup was over the moon anytime that he asked for a stand-in sitter. "That's okay. I know someone else who wouldn't mind filling in."

Haley noted the gleam of mischief in his eyes but chose not to question it. "So, are you about ready?"

"Yeah. Here, take Lily," he said, setting Lily on her feet beside him. "I've got to remind the boys about practice Monday and get a few things out of my office. I'll meet you at the truck."

"But I want to go with you, Luke," Lily whined, jutting out her bottom lip in the signature move that melted his heart. They had this argument nearly everyday and still he stood his ground; she'd have her days of walking into the boys locker room. But until that day came, he remained firm.

"No, Lil, you have to go with Haley."

"Humph," she huffed before she stomped away, leading the way to the double doors.

Lucas laughed watching Lily stomp away before he turned and headed toward the locker room. "Alright!" he yelled once inside. The boys halted dressing to turn toward him. "No practice until Monday. We play Willowbrook Wednesday and I want to beat them this time. Got it?" There was a unisoned response that made Lucas nostalgic of his playing days. "Alright. Have a good weekend."

Lucas moved to his office, closing the door behind himself. He walked to his desk, unlocked his drawer, and pulled it open. He lifted his playbook, fumbling around for the box that he'd tucked away some time ago. Finding it, he took it out and set it atop the desk. Lowering himself into his chair, he stared at it, reached his hand out to touch, but pulled away as if it had burned him. In a way he guess it had.

It had been given to him by his mom shortly after Lily was born. It was the ring that Keith had given to her and she thought he deserved to have it; she thought that _Peyton_ had deserved to have it.

She had so desperately wanted them to work things out. She had tried to coerce him time and again to go to Los Angeles to make it right. Several times he had contemplated taking her advice, but in the end had always changed his mind.

Peyton was chasing her dreams and if he chased her that would only negate what he was trying to accomplish. He wanted Peyton to come back to him when she was good and ready, when and if that day ever came. He refused to be the reason that she abandoned her dreams. He wanted her to fulfill her dreams before she came back to him. He didn't want her to have any regrets once (and if) they reconciled.

"What are you doing, Lucas?" he asked himself. He pushed the box back into the drawer, recovering it with the playbook. He locked the drawer, stood up from his desk and made his way back across the room toward the door. He flipped off the light before he stepped out into the locker room, telling his team goodbye once more before he left for his extended (and quite possibly) dreadful weekend.

—

"It's not going to be okay, is it?" Peyton said breathlessly through her cell phone as she made her way through the airport terminal. She pushed through the crowded airport, her palms sweaty, her heart beating more rapidly in her chest than it should be. If she was this nervous now, she was going to be a basket case by tonight.

"Of course it's going to be okay. I'm sure it'll be awkward at first. But time does that, Peyton," Brooke reassured her friend, pacing her hotel room. She'd been in Tree Hill a little over an hour and already her nerves were getting the best of her. She was just as nervous as Peyton to be seeing everyone again. It wasn't like she'd done the best job of staying in touch either. She hadn't spoken to Lucas since James's christening. He and Peyton had still been together, then.

Peyton stopped at baggage claim to await her bags. "Maybe it's too soon. Oh gosh, it's too soon is it? I'm going to do everlasting damage. I'm going to…"

"…have a heart attack if you don't take a breath. You need to take a pill, Peyton. And I'm serious about that. I told you not to stress over this. Be calm. Be collected. If he wants you, make him fight for you."

"I'm not good at playing games, Brooke. I tried that once and I lost him to you." Brooke silenced on the other end of the phone and for a moment Peyton thought she had overstepped her bounds.

"You didn't lose him, Peyton. He just… he was showing me what I was missing."

Peyton smiled, bustling forward through the people standing in front of her toward the baggage claim. In her haste to get her bags off the conveyor belt, she nearly tripped over an old lady's purse, but was quick to regain her composure. The old bird shot her a dirty look when it was _her_ suitcase of a purse that nearly had Peyton falling on her face.

Pasting a fake smile on her face, Peyton said, "Excuse me," then continued out of the terminal, Brooke's laughter ringing in her ear. "And you shut your face. I'll see you later."

Peyton snapped her phone shut, pushing it into her purse. She snatched a waiting cab, the cabbie taking her bags to push them into the trunk. Once he'd slid behind the wheel, she told him the address and they started away from the airport.

She sighed contentedly as they entered the Tree Hill city limits. They passed the once familiar landmarks, those that were mostly unfamiliar now. They traveled through town, past the high school and into her old subdivision.

He pulled up at the curb in front of her old house and she rolled down her window, staring up at her childhood home with fond memories. Thinking of Ian, she frowned, but quickly dispelled that memory altogether. _Happy memories_, she chided herself, choosing to focus on all the positive things that had happened rather than the negative things.

A few minutes to reminisce was all she had needed. "Okay, we can go now," she told the cabbie, eagerly pushing her window back up. She fell back against the leather seat as the cab pulled away from the curb and started back up the street.

"Old house, huh?" he said, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah," she said, her eyes dropping to stare at her hands. "My dad sold it a few years ago. It's been four years since I've been back and I just wanted to see it."

"Four years, huh? What'd you come back for?"

Leave it up to her to get the chatty cab driver. "My friends are getting married."

The cabbie snickered. "You don't sound particularly happy about that."

"No, that's not it. I'm especially happy for them. They're these total opposites and they just work." She paused, looking out the window before raising her eyes to meet the cabbie's in the mirror. "It's just…. Well. My ex… he's the best man."

"Ouch."

Peyton nodded her head. "Yeah. There's not a Band-Aid big enough to cover that wound." She wasn't even sure if she was entitled to have a wound. After all, she was the one that had screwed up her relationship with Lucas — again. Whether she was entitled to it or not, it was there.

She informed the cab driver that she was ready to go to her hotel, the Hilton down by the Riverfront, the same hotel that Brooke was staying at.

There was no need in putting it off any longer. She still had a few hours to go before she was due at the Rivercourt for the pre-rehearsal meet up and she intended to spend those few hours unwinding before she had to face her friends and her ex for the first time in years.

—

"Those are some pretty flowers you picked," Lucas told Lily, looking at her through the rearview mirror as they made their way to the cemetery.

Once they'd gotten home from school, Lily had changed out of her school clothes into her new pink dress. Haley had helped her dress while he had changed out of his school clothes and into the dress pants and shirt that Haley had laid out for him. "The blue brings out your eyes," she had told him when he'd found it laying across his bed, pressed and ready to be worn.

On their way to the truck, Lily had stopped to pick flowers out of the apartment complex's garden. It had taken her a while to choose between the white ones or the purple ones, but she'd finally chose the latter.

"Do you think mom'll like them?"

"Of course she will. How come you never pick me flowers?"

"Because you're a boy, Luke. Boys don't like flowers," she scoffed and he was pretty sure she'd called him silly under her breath.

"Oh," he said, pulling through the cemetery gates. "I guess that explains all the rocks and mudpies, then." He caught Lily's nod in the rearview mirror and just shook his head, grinning to himself.

Lucas parked at the curb, a little ways away from his mom and Keith's gravesites. He killed the engine, noting the clouds moving in as he pushed open his door. The storm could pass right over them, but he didn't want to take a chance; they'd have to make this quick.

After he'd unhooked Lily's seatbelt and lifted her out of the truck, he grabbed her hand as they began to make their way across the grass. "Hey Luke…?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that mom likes when we visit?"

"I think she likes it when _you_ visit." She smiled, then, obviously satisfied by his answer.

As they neared the oak tree where their mom and Keith rested, Lily slipped her hand out of his, running ahead. "Not too fast," he called after her. She was wearing the girliest pair of sandals and he was constantly worried that she would trip over them.

They'd all gone to the mall Tuesday afternoon after Haley and James had arrived from Charlotte. Lily had needed new shoes for the wedding, but when Haley had spotted the pair of sandals at Payless she'd just had to have them for Lily. They weren't quite broken in yet and she was still getting used to walking in them. Alas, she loved them and that was all that mattered. Still, it didn't keep him from fathering her.

Luke slowed his steps, knowing that this visit was special. Obviously there was something that Lily wanted to tell their mom and he didn't want to pry. He stopped a few yards away watching as she set the flowers on the ground in front of their mom's grave.

She fell onto her knees on the grass, her fingers darting forward to trace the etching on the headstone. Lucas could hear her talking, though he couldn't make out what she was saying. After a few moments, she turned to him, waving her hand at him.

When he stopped beside her, she took his hand once more, saying, "Your turn, Luke."

He bent down, taking Lily between his knees. "We miss you, Mom. Everyday. You should be here, but even though you're not, we like to think that you are. You know, Lily got her first kiss today. Did she tell you that?" he asked, poking Lily's side.

"LUKE!" she exclaimed, smacking his arm before burying her face in his neck, her cheeks pinking with embarrassment.

He palmed her back, soothingly. "You don't have to worry. If I have it my way that won't be happening again anytime soon."

The thunder booming overhead cut off an extended visit. They said their goodbyes to their mom and to Keith (Lily promised to bring him a mud pie next time), then headed back to the truck just as the rain began to fall.

—

The rain had lasted only for a few minutes, not even lasting long enough to dampen the roadways. On the way back to the apartment, he and Lily had talked about Nathan and how excited she was to see him. She saw him on the TV when they watched his games, but that was not the same thing, she had said.

They were both equally surprised to find that Nathan was already there. He was talking on the phone in the entry way, but wrapped up his call when Lily ran for him, yelling, "Uncle Nate!" Nathan didn't miss a beat, stooping down to catch her in his arms and swing her around, grinning at the laughter that bubbled from her chest.

"I thought we were supposed to pick you up at five," Lucas said, greeting his brother with a fierce hug. Since high school their bond had strengthened, even despite the distance the last three years since his return to Tree Hill. They talked daily and saw each other regularly and he never, _never_, missed one of Nathan's games. And it wasn't beneath Nathan to show up at one of the Ravens games and stand-in as coach.

Nathan set Lily on her feet, but continued to hold onto her hand. She wouldn't have left his side had she even been ordered to do so. "I took an earlier flight. I missed them, you know."

"Well, I've been taking good care of them," Lucas assured his brother. When he knew that Nathan was away for a long period of time, he tried to make arrangements to spend the weekends with Haley. They usually traded off on the weekends for travel; one weekend she'd come to Tree Hill and the next he'd go up to Charlotte.

Once they were feeling daring and had driven down to Tampa where Nathan was playing; he was playing Skills at the time and they'd all gone out after the game. It was that night that Skills and Bevin had announced their engagement.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm sure that goes both ways." They were all concerned on how Lucas was going to handle seeing Peyton again, but Haley was the one most invested in his well being. It was why she'd come so early. He had begged her to stay out of it, but it was Haley and this was Lucas so she was going to do whatever she damn well pleased. Lucas didn't seem to be affected by it, though. Luckily.

"I understand her concern, but I'm fine. It's not like I'm not sitting in my room listening to emo music and eating ice cream."

"Not yet, anyway."

"Funny. You pick up a sense of humor as a consolation prize for that commercial?"

They began making their way up the stairs toward Luke's apartment. "Hardest four days of my life, Luke. Be glad that you coach basketball and you don't play it."

Nathan had been in New York for the past four days shooting a commercial for some new sports drink that was about to go national. That's how they knew that Nathan was a _stah_; he was a full fledged celebrity now. Well, he would be once the commercial hit the TV screens.

Had it been up to him he would've come to Tree Hill the same that Haley and James had. But it was important to his agent and Jack didn't stand for no one repudiating on their word. The morning that he left for New York was the morning that Haley left for Tree Hill.

"You're living the dream, Nate. Shut up and enjoy it." They both laughed as they reached the second floor landing.

"Has she driven you nuts this week about the whole Peyton thing?" They were walking so slowly toward the apartment that Lily had ran ahead of them and disappeared inside.

Lucas shrugged. "Not really," he lied. They had talked about Peyton often (nearly everyday). It hadn't been his favorite subject topic of conversation (certainly not one that he'd choose of his own free will), sure, but acting like she didn't exist had gotten him nowhere. It seemed that the more nonchalance he feigned the more adamant Haley had gotten to get him to talk about it.

"Well I know that she's skeptical on how everything's going to go. But I think she's expecting something that's just not gonna happen." Haley was, after all, the optimistic one amongst them.

"Aren't we all," Lucas murmured softly.

Nathan laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. "Don't think about it too much."

"Believe me I'm trying, but it doesn't make it any easier when you and Haley keep bringing her up," Lucas sneered as he led Nathan into the apartment.

They found Haley in the kitchen, pushing toys and snacks into the bags that sat on the table. From the living room, he listened as the volume on the TV reached its maximum level. Nathan excused himself to tend to the kids while he crossed the kitchen to help Haley finish packing the bags.

"I think I've got everything. Movies, toys, Lily's doll."

"No, we can't possibly forget Miss Kay," Lucas said, peering into Lily's bag, her favorite doll lying on the very top. "She can't go to a sitter without her." Haley shot him an annoyed look. "But you already knew that."

"I think we're ready to go," Haley announced, lifting the two bags off the table. She called to Nathan and the kids, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We're going to be late."

Lucas smiled. "I'm actually okay with that. You know, I'm okay with not showing up at all." The glare that Haley directed at him came at the same time that James and Lily ran into the kitchen flanked by Nathan. He showed Lucas the remote, placing it atop the refrigerator. "We can't forget that it's up there."

"Trust me. He won't," Haley grinned, shuffling them toward the door. "Come on. We have to drop the kids off at the sitter and then get to the Rivercourt." Haley looked down at her watch. "And we haven't got much time."

As Haley led the way back down the stairs to the ground level, Nathan asked, "So who's this mystery sitter anyway, Luke?"

Luke didn't answer him. He just smiled.

—

A half-hour later they were on the road to the Rivercourt. They hadn't intended to spend so much time at the sitter's, but Haley's elation at finding out that Whitey routinely babysat Lily had been cause for an extended stay. "I still can't believe that Whitey is your stand-in sitter," Haley ribbed from the backseat. "How come I never knew?"

Lucas met her curious gaze in the mirror. "He doesn't do it very often. But he's happy to whenever he can. Plus, she's Keith's daughter and you know how close Whitey and Keith were." He paused for a second. "Don't get me wrong. Claudia has her moments, but she really adores Lily. I knew I was taking a chance hiring a teenager but it works out well because her school hours coincide with Lily's and she picks up Lily from school and brings her home and keeps her occupied until I get through with practice."

"Crushing on a high school girl, Luke?" Nathan teased from beside him.

"Like Skills doesn't give me enough grief about that," he said with a shake of his head. Sometimes he could swear that Nathan and Skills shared a brain.

"He's crushing on a high school girl, alright. You know her, Nathan. You used to date her back way back when," Haley taunted.

"You two are cracking me up. Really. You should do stand up."

Lucas pulled up on the grassy greens that led to the Rivercourt as Haley whined from the backseat, "Man. We're the first ones here. I hate showing up first!"

"Not for long, Hales," Nathan said as headlights flashed from behind them. Lucas killed the engine and they piled out, curious as to who was driving what.

Haley recognized one of them as Bevin's car, but the others were lost on her. The Lexus parked beside Luke's truck. The passenger door swung open widely, nearly tagging the driver's side door of the truck. "Damn girl, watch what you doing," Skills chastised Bevin as he climbed out.

The occupants of the other vehicles soon became known. Haley shrieked, setting eyes on Junk and Fergie, both of whom weren't alone; although their (lady) friends remained in their respective vehicles.

Within fifteen minutes they were all standing midcourt, conversations swirling about. Lucas and Nathan had whipped out their wallets to show off pictures of Lily and James. Skills was rubbing it in that his team had wiped the floor with Nathan's the last time they had played one another. Fergie and Junk attributed to the ongoing conversations now and again but for the most part they kept quiet like they had always done.

Before anyone was able to ask about the lacking presence of Brooke, Peyton and Rachel, a black convertible sped onto the grounds, parking on the other side of Luke's truck.

Brooke Davis stepped out, looking completely glamorous. Haley and Bevin broke away from them to meet Brooke at her car. The boys winced at the high pitched wails as they girls hugged each other (at the same time).

"I forgot they do that," Fergie said as the three of them crossed the court arm-in-arm.

Brooke greeted everyone individually, saving Lucas for last. There was so much that she wanted to tell him, but the BFF code prevented her from doing that. There were so many things that she'd like to clarify, but it wasn't her place to sort them out; it was Peyton's.

She still had a special place in her heart for Lucas Scott, but that was only because he'd been the first boy to make her open her heart. His belonged to her best friend and she wouldn't have it any other way. Lucas and Peyton belonged together. It had taken her a while to face that fact, but she knew that now; if she knew nothing else, she knew that at least.

"Luke," she said, turning to him with a sigh. Was he taller? Because he looked taller. Maybe it was his hair, though. It was shorter and lighter. She noted the light stubble on his jaw. Obviously there was no woman in his life because if there was he would be clean shaven. Although, it was possible he could've just been in a hurry.

Besides, she was only hoping that he was single for Peyton's sake. Peyton wanted to work things out with Lucas and a girlfriend would only hinder her plans.

"Hey Brooke," he greeted her eagerly, opening his arms to her. He hugged her tightly to his chest for a moment before he took a step back, holding her hands as he gave her a once over, telling her, "You look good. Happy."

"I am. I really am," she told him with a bright smile. "You look happy, too. I was sorry to hear about your mom. I was in London when I heard and wanted to fly back, but it was a fashion show and I..."

He shrugged it off. "It's okay, Brooke. Water under the bridge." If only he could be so blasé about other things, namely Peyton and that whole tired situation.

"She'll be here," she assured him when she caught him staring at the entryway to the Rivercourt. He blushed, averting his gaze away from the entrance and away from Brooke. "I won't tell." She winked at him, then slivered away to go talk to Haley and Bevin.

Lucas walked up to meet Skills just as he grabbed Bevin's wrist to inspect her watch. "We'll have to be heading to the restaurant soon. Peyton and Rachel better hurry up."

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Bevin said, turning her eyes up to Skills. "Rachel won't be here until tomorrow. Her boyfriend's in this play and she's doing the whole supportive girlfriend thing. They'll be here tomorrow."

When another pair of headlights flashed over them, they all spun around to look. Skills was the one to point out the obvious: "Well that can only be…," he trailed off, whirling toward Luke.

All eyes shot to Lucas whose gaze had not wavered from the yellow taxi cab parked behind his truck. Lucas felt everyone's eyes on him, but in spite of that fact, he didn't feel compelled to look at them. His focus remained on the cab as he watched and waited.


	3. Here We Stand Not More Than Friends

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: Um. Whoops? It wasn't supposed to take me three weeks to get this part up. Really it wasn't. However, my muse and I wrestled with certain parts and they were what held the updates. So if you want to point blame, blame HIM. Rest assured that the following parts should be up pretty quickly. I've been working on them like crazy.

**—**

**02. Here We Stand Not More Than Friends**

Everyone was looking at Lucas as the light atop the cab lit up and the door was pushed open. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, took a few steps to his right, squinting his eyes to make out her silhouette. Unfortunately it was much too dark to see. 

He expected Brooke to run forward to meet her, but she remained where she was standing next to Nathan and Haley. Lucas could feel everyone's eyes on him, but he did his best not to look at any of them, especially Haley. He wasn't sure what everyone expected his reaction to be. Hell, he didn't even know what he expected his own reaction to be. He just playing it cool until he saw her. Or she saw him. Whatever.

They could hear mumbled voices near the cab, Peyton and her driver exchanging words. Then, there was silence. A door slammed closed, followed by a second and then the cab began to pull away.

As Peyton neared he could see her much better and as she had since freshman year, she took his breath away. Her hair was longer now. Darker, too. He thought for a moment that she was taller, but that was just the heels that she was wearing. The little black dress that she wore hugged her curves, molded around her breasts. She was most certainly a sight for sore eyes.

His friends started to move around him, but he remained where he was, frozen on the spot. His eyes were locked on her as she made the rounds, greeting and hugging everyone. He was being saved for last, apparently. He had yet to decide whether that was a good or bad thing.

He saw Brooke and Haley talking a little ways away and he knew they were talking about I him /I ; Brooke kept looking at him and Haley was pointing… Oh, great! He was a damn sideshow! Just terrific.

Finally, Peyton turned her eyes in his direction, her smile faltering just a tad, then began making her way toward him. Lucas took a deep breath to steady himself as she approached, stopping just a few inches in front of him. She was actually here, in the flesh; he took a moment to revel in the moment. Then, she said his name, "Lucas Scott," the words coming out as a nothing more than a sigh.

His eyes closed, traitors to the sound of her honeyed voice. He wanted to be bitter, he wanted to show any emotion that wasn't caving to her whims. But he guessed he just wasn't that strong. This was Peyton, after all.

His eyes met hers and he was assaulted by the softness of them. He took a moment to drink her in—the slope where her neck and should met, her arms, the curve of her hip, her long shapely legs. Every portion of her body held with it a certain memory, a moment of their (albeit brief) time together.

Lucas stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, stumbling through the awkward embrace. He didn't know why he thought holding her again would seem foreign, why she would feel any different. It felt like it always had: like he could just disappear into her arms, like they were practically one person.

He continued to hold her close, burying his face in her hair, inhaling the mixture of her aromatic perfume and the fruity smell of her shampoo. After a few moments, he let her go, stepping back to put some space between them.

"It's good see to you again," Lucas said, glad that he wasn't stuttering his words. He wanted to exude calm. He didn't want this to be weird, for either of them, for anyone.

"You, too," was all she said, unable to find anything to say to him. Her mouth was dry and her throat had closed up. Here was her chance to tell him everything that she'd contemplated over the last few months and now that she could, she wouldn't.

He looked good, which she knew he would. He was taller, broader, tanner even. His hair was cut short and neat, but she assumed that was for the wedding. He wasn't freshly shaved but she was sure he was waiting to shave for the wedding tomorrow. She liked the shadow of hair that lined his jaw, tickled his lips. She ached to reach up and feel, but tamped down that urge.

Peyton found her gaze dropping to his hand just to see if he sported a wedding band; he didn't. Though she was pretty sure if Lucas had gotten married that news would've reached her somehow. She was relieved nonetheless that Lucas was still available. Whether or not he had a girlfriend—or a fiancée—remained to be seen.

The lengthening silence wasn't lost to Lucas. Was this how it was going to be? Were they just going to stare at one another? Were they going to pretend like the last few years hadn't happened and that they had never meant anything to each other? Considering her silence he guessed so.

Unable to take her silence any longer, he told her, "I'm glad you're here, Peyton." He touched her forearm lightly, then walked past her to where Nathan and Haley were standing, both obviously awaiting a report as to what had been said—or not said—between he and Peyton.

Haley seemed hopeful as he approached. Haley had always embraced the idea of him with Peyton. When he'd been with Brooke she'd accepted that because she was his best friend and thought that Brooke was who he'd wanted. Needless to say when he and Peyton had finally found their ways back to one another she was both shocked and ecstatic. This time she was hoping that it stuck for good. "How'd it go?" she asked, frowning when Lucas stalked right on past her to his truck. She gave Nathan a perturbed look, then took off after him, pulling her husband along.

"Well," he said, turning to face Haley, knowing that she wouldn't let up until he told her. "It could've been a lot worse. There could've been yelling." He met Peyton's eyes as she sidled up beside Brooke. She gave him a wry smile, but he didn't return the gesture. "Let's get out of here." He yelled to Skills that they'd meet up at the restaurant, then climbed into his truck, Nathan and Haley following suit. And luckily neither of them mentioned Peyton for the duration of the drive.

—

The rehearsal dinner had been held at the restaurant that Bevin's aunt owned—an Italian bistro. Due to his duties as best man, having to give a toast and whatnot, Lucas barely had time to think about Peyton (that wasn't to say that he didn't, however).

They'd been seated at opposite ends of the table—a safety measure he was sure—and for that he had been thankful. Bevin had whispered to him much later that he could thank her properly by not feeling her up when he slipped off her garter the following day. He winked at her and Skills just smiled; he was used the playfulness and, besides, he knew that Lucas loved Peyton, had always loved Peyton and would love no one else but Peyton. It kept his jealousy in check, not that he was jealous to begin with.

After several failed attempts to talk to Lucas, Peyton tried her luck one more time, approaching him while he was at the bar getting a drink. Anything she could have said was short-lived for Bevin had appeared at his side and dragged him away before any words were exchanged. There were things that she needed to say before she lost her nerve and everyone cocooning Lucas was not helping the slightest bit.

Following the rehearsal dinner, the party continued on at the Scott beach house, a preset if you will until the girls and boys split up into their respective groups for the pre-wedding parties. The girls were still pretty leery as to their plans seeing as how the maid of honor would not be showing up until the following day. It made their excitement not as well, exciting.

The beach house was rarely used anymore and Nathan was the one to actually suggest that they use it for the wedding. Lucas and Haley had come a few weeks before and tidied up the place. They repainted some walls and stripped it of its Dan-ness. They had run the idea by Nathan first before they'd made any changes and he was on the same wavelength as Lucas in that retrospect. The mementos that had once been so precious to Dan Scott had been tucked away into storage and replaced with pictures of Lily and James and I their /I family.

Lucas breathed in the fresh night air, glad to have a reprieve from talk about weddings and engagements and ex-girlfriends. He had bowed out on the festivities going on inside some time ago, seeking solace outside. He stood on the balcony, his tie loose around his shoulders, the first two buttons on his dress shirt undone, staring out at the beach, a mostly forgotten bottle of beer in his hand. He stared up at the dark sky, the stars twinkling above. It was a beautiful night out—the perfect date night.

What would he know about a date? He hadn't been on one in years. He had tried dating just to shut up his friends, but it never spanned for longer than one night. The girls he'd meet were vapid and shallow and only looking to get married and start a family. They differed there—he already had a family. Sure he wanted kids of his own, but with the right person and he had yet to meet that person—no, that was wrong. He had met that person a long time ago, but she'd left him to pursue her career.

I Peyton. /I

He turned back toward the house. Peyton was chatting with Brooke and Bevin. Bevin said something funny that compelled her to laugh; her laugh was almost as intoxicating as the rest of her. It still reached his ears even out here, tormenting him, reminding him. When she met his eyes through the glass he quickly looked away, spinning around to focus his attention on the sky above, the beach in the distance, anything but her.

He had spent an hour in the same room with her, never talking to her, never putting himself in a position where he could. When she was on one side of the room, he had moved to the other. He was not eager to relive the awkwardness that had ensued back at the Rivercourt. Time and distance had destroyed the bond they once shared. Once when they would have endless topics at their disposal, now they had none. Even if they had topics to discuss the median that had forged was too great to cross and neither of them seemed intent to right the wrongs or bridge the gap that had separated them for four long years.

Lucas had just turned to make his way back inside when Peyton appeared from the opposite side, sidling up beside him greeting him with a casual, "Hey."

"Oh. Hi." He tightened his fingers around his beer bottle, wondering if the unease had subsided yet. He sure as hell hoped so.

Peyton leaned her hip against the railing, careful to keep a reasonable amount of space between Lucas and herself. She didn't want to scare him off again, or worse have someone have to swoop in and rescue him. "So. When are you boys sneaking off for the bachelor party? I'm sure that you have a night full of debauchery planned?" There. Nice, neutral topic. That wasn't so hard.

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. A general topic. That he could work with. And boy, did they have a night planned. When he had discussed the bachelor party long ago with Skills and the other groomsmen, they had all agreed on one thing: strippers. Theirs wouldn't be the most original party, but it would be the one that Skills wanted and wouldn't forget. Lucas grinned, checking his watch. "Shouldn't be too much longer." Lucas took a long swig of his beer. The alcohol had yet to affect him, but he was drunk by merely her presence. That didn't bode well for the duration of this weekend when they would be constantly in each other's presence.

Another uncomfortable silence fell over them, entrapping them by circumstance and a past that they just couldn't escape. Why was it this awkward? And why was he letting it be this awkward? He wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't find the strength to.

For years he'd dreamt about this very moment, the moment when Peyton walked back into his life and what he would do and how he would react. His overzealous imagination had never conjured up something so unfamiliar and strange, though. He and Peyton had always been comfortable with one another; even in those rare times when their friendship had suffered being in the same room, talking had never been difficult for them. Until now.

"Lucas, I…"

He glanced behind her back at the party going on inside. He spotted Skills and Bevin standing together talking to Junk and his girlfriend and was quickly thrown back into the present. The whole point of this weekend was to celebrate Bevin and Skills' impending wedding. And ex-girlfriend or not he planned to do just that.

"I can't do this now, Peyton," he snapped, a little shorter with her than intended. "I know that we should probably talk, but not here, not now. This is supposed to be a happy time for Skills and Bevin. I want to be happy for them. But I can't do that with...," he made a little circle of his hand toward her. "I'm sorry."

Peyton was flabbergasted as she watched Lucas walk away and disappear back into the house, the door slamming shut behind him. She heaved a sigh, bracing her hands on the railing. "Another glorious fuck up, Peyton," she muttered to herself. He had dismissed her like she were simply an afterthought, which she assumed that she now was.

"That went well." Peyton turned her head just in time to see Brooke step out of the shadows where she had been eavesdropping apparently.

Peyton straightened, asking, "How long have you been lurking in the shadows? And exactly how much did you hear?" Whether Brooke overheard her conversation with Lucas or not held no bearing. Some things—especially embarrassments as it were—she'd rather keep private.

Brooke shrugged nonchalantly, answering, "A while." Stretching her arm around Peyton's shoulders, she said, "Honey, you've got your work cut out for you." She wanted to see Lucas and Peyton work things out, but as she'd warned her friend when they had started making preparations to return to Tree Hill, settling back into Luke's life may not be such an easy task.

As much as they hated to admit it, Lucas Scott had changed. He was nothing if not a family man now. He had changed probably the most of all having lost Peyton, his mother but gaining Lily. Brooke had tried time and again to sway Peyton to go home to him—it was with Lucas where she longed to be, she couldn't deny it—but her words had always fallen on deaf ears. Peyton had reason upon reason not to return to him and now that she had Brooke could see it in her eyes that she feared she was too late.

"Don't I know it," Peyton sighed, turning to lean her back against the railing. "He won't even talk to me. First at the Rivercourt and then and at the restaurant and now here. What am I supposed to do, Brooke?"

Brooke had no sage advice to give. Heck, she couldn't get her own relationships to stick. She was the last person that should be giving advice. However, she did have some expertise in the Lucas Scott area. "You knew this wasn't going to be easy. Hang in there. He'll talk to you when he's ready. I just don't think he's there yet." Brooke leaned her head against her best friend's shoulder, holding her close.

—

Lucas was standing outside the beach house with the guys, arguing with Junk and Fergie over just who the groom-to-be was riding with to the strip club when a black stretch limo pulled up. All eyes snapped to him as Skills said, "Damn, Lucas. You didn't have to."

Lucas scoffed. "Good. Because I didn't."

Before the flurry of questions could come, the door swung open and Rachel Gattina stepped out. "Hello boys," she drawled with her wide smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

They all exchanged a look between one another, confused. They had all been under the impression that Rachel wasn't going to be in until I tomorrow. /I

Skills was the first to step forward to embrace Rachel. "Bevin said you weren't coming in until tomorrow."

"I'm surprising her," Rachel said, putting a finger over her mouth. "So, shh." She shrugged. "I couldn't miss her bachelorette party. I would be the suckiest maid of honor ever. And hot boys in g-strings? You know I'm there."

The boys weren't even paying attention to what Rachel was saying; they were concentrated on the limo and more importantly if her movie star boyfriend remained inside. "There's no one in there, guys," she told them when she realized what it was they were doing. "He had to fly back to L.A. so he won't be making the wedding."

"Who're you dating anyway, Rachel?" Lucas asked. It wasn't that he really cared—his curiosity was besting him.

"We co-starred in a movie together and that's all I'm saying," she said with a smile, then added, "And he's a tiger in the sack." The boys all exchanged a look. "Okay. I That's /I all I'm saying." She made a zipping motion with her fingers over her mouth, making it obvious that she was done talking about her relationship, an odd occurrence for Rachel.

Lucas slapped a hand on Skills's back, saying, "Well we better get going."

Rachel sauntered past them, stopping and turning to say, "Yeah, me too. I have to rally up the girls for some fun. You guys going to see strippers?" she asked, backing up toward the beach house. Lucas and Skills nodded. "Good. Us too. Have fun, losers."

Lucas shook his head, leading the way to his truck. "It's nice to see that some of us haven't changed."

Skills scoffed. "Nah, Rachel will always be an annoying hoe bag." Lucas snickered, pulling Skills along toward his truck, the others following close behind.

—

Lucas was sandwiched between Skills and Nathan, staring up at the strippers with disinterest. The guys were cheering around him, Skills especially, taking full advantage of his last night as a bachelor. He held a stack of one dollar bills in his hand and was eager to stick them in any g-string that sauntered past him. Lucas was glad that his friend was enjoying himself; this was his last night as a bachelor and he deserved the just rewards.

Their waitress returned with a round of shots and even Nathan was salivating at the mouth. He watched his brother carefully, watching as he sank down an entire shot glass of whatever choice liquor the boys had moved onto.

Lucas sat in his chair, chuckling as he watched Fergie reward Skills with a lap dance. He was the one cooperating the least. Both Nathan and Skills had called him out on his behavior, demeaning him on not participating in their raucous activities. It wasn't that he didn't want to—it's just that his mind was elsewhere, definitely not where it should be.

He had tried to put the night's events behind him and concentrate on the night of debauchery with the boys, but his mind kept replaying each conversation that he'd had with Peyton over and over again.

He hadn't meant to just brush her off, but for the sake of the wedding, he had to. If they were to go into their relationship—or lack thereof—it would detract his concentration from Bevin and Skills' day and he didn't want that. Skills was his best friend and he deserved Luke's undivided attention.

Despite that he was still unable to enjoy the night and the activities that he himself had planned weeks ago. He stirred from his thoughts when Nathan nudged his shoulder, pulling a chair up beside him. "You're missing all the fun."

"Oh, I think Skills is having enough for the both of us," he said, pointing at their friend, reaping the benefits of his impending wedding with the dancer on his lap.

Nathan slapped his arm. "You gotta let her go, man. At least for tonight. You're the best man. You should be enjoying this, not crying over some girl."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I am not crying. And Peyton is not I some girl /I ."

"Okay, I the /I girl. Whatever. Put her out of your head and get over here," Nathan said walking away to rejoin the guys.

Nathan was right. There would be plenty time after the wedding festivities were over when he could worry about Peyton. He slipped out of his chair and rejoined the group. He'd barely had time to adjust to being on his feet, when Junk and Fergie forced him back down into a chair for his very own lap dance.

—

Peyton sat at her table, sipping her champagne, watching the couples that graced the dance floor. Skills and Bevin were floating around the dance floor, completely and utterly in awe of one another. Her heart constricted in her chest, silently wishing for what they had. It forced her thoughts to return to Lucas, her eyes searching the ballroom for him.

As Haley's laughter rang out throughout the room, her eyes snapped back to the dance floor and there he was. The scene made her laugh out loud, but she disguised it behind her hand. Lucas was dancing with Haley, a little girl (whom she guess was Lily) was wound around his hips and James standing on Luke's feet between them. The entire scene was adorable as Lucas and Haley tried to dance, impeded by the children between them.

The song changed and Haley stepped back, pulling James along with her, despite his protests. Lucas remained on the dance floor with Lily, holding her tight as they began swaying to the music. They were talking and it was evident in his bright smile how much he adored the little girl. Seeing them together now, watching them interact, seeing the love in his eyes when he looked at her Peyton wondered if there was even room in his life—in his heart—for her anymore.

"See what you've been missing?" Nathan slid into the chair next to her, looking over his shoulder at Lucas and Lily. "That girl is his entire world." As much as he wanted to see Lucas and Peyton get their happily ever after, Peyton needed to understand that Lucas wasn't the same guy that she'd left all those years ago.

Peyton gulped down the remaining contents of her champagne, setting her glass aside. "I can see that."

Nathan glanced around the room, frowning. "You know, I'm surprised that Claudia hasn't shown up. I'm sure that Lucas asked her to come."

Fear ripped through Peyton. "Claudia's his…," she trailed off, unable to formulate the word I girlfriend /I .

However, Nathan had no trouble with the word whatsoever. "Girlfriend?" he filled in for her. "Of course." Oh, he was going to pay for this later, especially once Haley realized that he'd been deceitful but he couldn't help it. Peyton needed to know that Luke's life didn't stop. He could've dated; he chose not to. That was information that she wasn't privy to; it was information that she didn't deserve. Not now. Not when she'd done nothing to deserve it.

Before anymore could be said, however, Haley came and pulled Nathan to the dance floor for a dance. Peyton looked around for James, finding him on Brooke's hip at the food station. She waved a carrot in front of him, which he pushed out of her hand. She reprimanded with a small smack to the arm as she bent down to scoop it up, handing it off to one of the servers.

Peyton was so intent on watching Brooke with James that she was caught off-guard when someone laid a hand upon her shoulder. "Can I have this dance?" I Lucas. /I Peyton took a moment to compose herself, taking a deep, calming breath before she turned to him, nodding her head. She rose out of her chair, letting Lucas take her hand to lead her out onto the dance floor.

The recent song being played by DJ Fergie was something slow, something classic, something from the 90s. Luke's hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him, her arms circling his neck.

Peyton felt his shallow, uneven breaths on her neck, could smell the aftershave on his. It invaded her nostrils and made her dizzy with longing and need. But like Lucas had informed her none too subtly—this weekend was about Skills and Bevin, not about them.

"I'm sorry about last night," Lucas apologized, taking lead. His hand splayed out against the small of her back, feeling the warmth emanating off her body through the thin fabric of the dress. Okay so maybe dancing hadn't been his smartest idea. He could've just sat down to talk to her. That would've been much more conscientious—not to mention much, I much /I safer.

Peyton focused on the movements of their bodies and the music to which they swayed. Several people were watching them—she could feel several pairs of eyes on them—but she didn't look around to see who. She wasn't being well-received and for that she had been prepared. Leaving behind your friends and the boyfriend that you claimed to love garnered that action; the ill-treatment was deserved. Even she had to admit that. "It's okay," she assured him. "I knew that this was a possibility if I came back—that there'd be an adjustment period."

Lucas shook his head, looked over her shoulder, at some unforeseen spot on the wall. "No, you know it's not even that. I'm glad to see you, Peyton. I am. It's just... It's... well it's hard, you know?"

"You don't think it's not for me, Luke," she bit out, probably a little more cutting than she had intended. It should be easier on him; after all, he wasn't the one that left, he wasn't the one being treated like a leper by their friends. He was the victim here—the Little Red Riding Hood to her Big Bad Wolf. Okay, horrible analogy. But still.

"I don't want to do this. I told myself that I wasn't going to do it," he said, casting a look around them before he met her gaze. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Then don't."

"You make it hard for me not to," he grinned, catching Haley's eye over Peyton's shoulder. She gave him a small, encouraging smile, but he shook his head; this wasn't a reconciliation, it was a peace offering. He wanted her to know that he was no longer holding onto the past—a lie but she didn't know that. He just didn't want her to stay gone for so long again. Tree Hill was her hometown, too. Surely they could coexist. At least he hoped they could.

"I saw Lily. She's beautiful, Luke."

"Thanks." But the sentiment was a weak one. "I don't think I could love her anymore if she were my own."

She summoned up a tight smile, adding, "You've done a good job with her. I was so sad to hear about your mom." At the mention of his mom, he averted his gaze. "I wanted to come back for the funeral, but it was so soon afterward, you know?"

"I understand." In his head it made sense. It probably would've been awkward to see her so soon after their breakup, but in his heart it made no sense whatsoever. If she'd cared about him at all, if she'd loved him as she'd claimed to, she would've come back. But she didn't. And that hurt more than he let on to anyone.

"I didn't want you to have to deal with me and everything else. It would've been selfish."

"It was just as selfish to stay away," he said bitterly. Her eyes met his and for the first time he could actually see remorse there. "Next to Haley and Nathan you were the person that I wanted there, Peyton. She loved you like you were part of the family. She actually thought that...," he stopped short. He stopped talking; it would only add more fuel to the already burgeoning fire.

They continued to dance until the song concluded, though no more words were spoken. And when the song had met its end, he slipped out of her arms and left the dance floor, leaving Peyton standing there to blink back the tears of regret threatening to spill down her cheeks.


	4. Don't Let Your Heart & Mind Stay At War

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: I'm supposed to be reading _Eclipse_, but instead you guys are getting an update. That's love. LOL.

—

**03. Don't Let Your Heart & Mind Stay At War**

Lucas slammed through the ballroom doors, inhaling a quick burst of night air and freedom. Every nerve ending in his body was thrumming wildly, his heart hammering against his chest. He was riled up. He harrumphed. That was an understatement. He knew that it—the past—shouldn't bother him. But it did. So much it hurt. Hurt to think. Hurt to breathe. Hurt to even contemplate turning around and facing her again, facing her at all. 

He had spent the last few years compartmentalizing everything: Dan's incarceration, his mom's death, his breakup with Peyton. He hadn't really wanted to deal with any of it, so he'd pushed it aside pretending that he was over it, that it didn't bother him. He was strong enough to get through it all. But was he really? Did he have the strength? The tenacity? Sometimes he didn't think he did. Especially after tonight.

"Rough night?" asked a voice in the dark.

Lucas jumped slightly, taken by surprise. He peered through the darkness, exhaling when Rachel stepped into his line of vision, her phone crushed into her palm. "Oh, it's just you," he said flippantly. He didn't want to deal with anyone right now. And that included Rachel. He wanted to breathe. He wanted to think. And he was finding it impossible to do either at the moment.

"Good to see you too," she said feigning hurt. Her eyes said differently, Lucas noted, watching as they sparkled under the glow of the fluorescent light above them.

He let out a frustrated breath, running his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. It's nothing personal, Rachel." He wanted answers, but rationale had completely abandoned him. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't he shake the feelings of betrayal that swarmed through him? It'd been four damn years. Certainly he couldn't carry around all this baggage for the duration of his life. Lucas spared a glance at her then. "It should be easier than this, shouldn't it?"

"You talking about you and Peyton, right?" He gave her a credulous look. "Bevin's a gossip monger. I hear things all the way out in L.A." She shrugged, stepping beside him. "You dealt with your situation the best way you could. It backfired and left both of you grasping at straws. You can make her pay for what happened as long as you want Lucas but it won't ease the hurt, it won't change the past and it won't keep you from loving her." His eyes darkened with annoyance. "Because you do love her." She nudged his shoulder. "Come on, you can tell me. I can keep a secret."

Lucas leaned his back against one of the column support beams, saying, "I don't how I feel about her, Rachel. I know I feel hurt and betrayed. I can't love her when right now all I want to do is hate her." But he did love her. As much as he didn't want to, he did. And that was something that he couldn't deny. Try as he might.

"You could never hate her, Lucas. We both know that."

He hated that Rachel was right, hated that everyone knew him so well. Hate was such a strong word, one that couldn't be administered to Peyton. He didn't hate her, couldn't hate her. Sure he was hurt and was lashing out, but he could never hate her. As much as he'd like to he couldn't. Just like he couldn't stop loving her, regardless of how hard he tried.

Eager to turn the conversation away from him, he asked, "So how'd you land the Maid of Honor gig? I wasn't aware that you and Bevin were still in touch you being the Hollywood starlet and all." His words were meant to tease and if anyone knew how to tease it was Rachel Gattina.

Her smile was faint, pained even. Lucas wondered why. "I was such a bitch to Bevin near the end of school. I thought that she'd be thrilled to have me out of her life. But that's the thing about Bevin. There's all these facets to her. She's uncompromising and smart and strong. And she has the ability to forgive and forget." She cleared her throat, fearing that she'd said too much. Shrugging, she went on, "We try to keep in touch. I mean, we're not the best of buds, but we found common ground after graduation. She weighed all her friends and figured that she was closest to me and that's it. I'm really happy for her and Skills. They are a ridiculous pair, but they are ridiculously happy."

"They really are," Lucas agreed, turning his head to peer through the glass doors back inside. From where he was standing he could see the newlyweds on the dance floor. They were talking, laughing, completely enamored by each other. Lucas envied his best friend. Skills had found his match and had stuck it out. He'd found his and what had he'd done? He'd let her go.

He grimaced. When'd he start shouldering the blame for the downfall of their relationship? Peyton had left, leaving him to come to the realization on his own that she wasn't coming back. Their breakup had been inevitable. They'd both known it. Though, it still didn't change anything. It didn't erase the last four years. It didn't take away the hurt and betrayal, the nights that he'd stayed awake anticipating her phone calls only to be disappointed when they came four days too late. Those wounds ran deep, too deep.

Rachel followed his gaze and Lucas had to fight the urge to smack her for her next question. "Think that'll be you and Peyton one day? Think you'll get to that point again? Betrayal and whatnot aside?"

He didn't have time to answer her. Nathan poked his head out the door yelling to him, "There you are! We've been looking everywhere." Nathan waved his hand forward. "Come on, Luke. Time to fondle the bride." He jerked his head to the door, holding his stance for Rachel and Luke.

Lucas made eye contact with Peyton as he shuffled to the middle of the room where Bevin and Skills stood waiting. Skills wagged a finger at him, sliding into the waiting chair. "Ya not supposed to rebound with Rachel, Luke."

"Bite me, Skills," he said, turning to Bevin, winking at her as she settled onto Skills' lap. Music began to play, the guests goading him on with hoops and hollers. He urged them on with a gentle sweep of his hands, before falling to his knee, his hands gliding up Bevin's smooth leg.

"Don't be gettin' fresh," Skills warned with a smirk.

Lucas chuckled, finding the garter on Bevin's thigh. "Luke, that's not my thigh," she teased.

"What?" Skills declared as Luke's head fell onto Bevin's knee, laughter wracking their respective bodies. Skills glared at his new wife. "Baby, that's not even funny."

"Aww, honey, of course it was," she said, kissing one side of his cheek, patting the other softly.

Quickly, Lucas slid the silky fabric down Bevin's leg, bolting to his feet to twirl it around his finger. Fergie announced for all the single men to make their way to the middle of the floor. Lucas tossed the garter to Skills, telling him, "It's all you," as Skills told him, "Get your skinny ass over there with the rest of them."

Lucas maneuvered his way into the crowd, catching Peyton's eye. He was quick to avert his gaze as the garter sailed into the air, landing atop Junk's head. Junk grabbed Luke's shirtsleeve, begging, "Please tell me that did not happen."

Lucas slapped a hand on Junk's shoulder, the squeal of delight from his girlfriend reaching their ears. "Sorry, buddy. Looks like you're next." He left his friend standing in the middle of the floor, gaping. He moved to the bar to grab a fresh drink, the bride rallying the single gals up for the bouquet toss.

He kept his position near the bar, watching Brooke pull Peyton into the crowd of overeager females. The last thing she wanted was to catch the bouquet, but he thought that all bridesmaids vied to be a bride. Heck, maybe Peyton didn't even want to get married. It wouldn't be beneath her to change her mind about _that_ as well.

Pushing aside the bitter thought, he ordered a drink, turning to watch the toss as he waited. He watched it all happen in slow motion. Bevin curling her arm to toss the flowers over her head. The bouquet ricocheting through the air. Peyton's surprised face as the bundle of flowers landed in her hands.

The other women congratulated her, but she was oblivious to them; their eyes had locked and they stared at one another until Peyton pushed the bouquet into Brooke's arms and stomped off the floor to the nearest exit.

Lucas heaved a sigh, accepting his drink, the click of Peyton's heel against the tiled floor reverberating in his ears. He wished that things could be different. Resolved. Devoid of awkwardness.

Still he didn't care enough to do anything about it.

—

Originally Peyton was supposed to have brunch with Brooke before her flight back to New York. But following the wedding she changed their plans, needing to square some things away with Lucas first.

Brooke was happy that she was taking initiative, not allowing Lucas to trample all over her. She was happy to agree to a change of plans and had even passed along Haley's cell number to get Luke's new address.

She'd sat in her rental car for a good ten minutes, staring up at the apartment complex, taking deep breaths to gather her nerve. Feeling confident enough, she pushed open her door and began her trek across the courtyard.

Peyton could hear the music as she climbed the stairs to Luke's second story apartment. It was light yet upbeat. _Dancing music._ She tried to picture Lucas Scott dancing around his kitchen and when she did she couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled inside her throat. Her steps toward her door, slowed, fear gripping her. Would he even invite her inside? Would he slam the door in her face? Her heart lurched at that prospect.

She approached the door, finding it open, Luke's home visible through the screen door. She peered through past the foyer, finding him dancing around the kitchen. Lily was on his shoulders and he was waving a spatula, singing along to the music.

Lily was the first to notice her standing at the door. She stared at Peyton quizzically for a few moments, then patted Luke's face with her hands, turning his head toward the door, asking, "Luke, who's that?"

"Peyton! Hey. Hi." He lifted Lily off his shoulders, setting her on her feet beside him. He looked down at her, patting her backside lightly. "Go turn off the stereo, huh, Lils?" Her gaze shot back and forth between he and Peyton before she ran from the room to do as asked. Lucas crossed to the door, leaning against the doorjamb, asking, "What are you doing here, Peyton?"

_Nice to see you, too, Luke_. Peyton rolled her eyes. Not that she was fool enough to expect a hearty greeting from him to begin with. She fidgeted on his doorstep, admitting, "Haley told me you where you moved. I thought maybe we could talk."

Talking was the last thing that he wanted to do. Peyton had made herself clear that their relationship—him, especially—had meant naught to her. He was over it. So over it. He was moving on. Preferably back to the stove to finish breakfast. "I'm not sure there's anything left to talk about." And there wasn't. Not really.

"I just want to… clear the air, Lucas. That's all."

"You're the one that's stayed gone the last four years and you want to clear the air? By all means, clear it," he said with a sweep of his hand. He knew that he was being selfish and cold, but the way he saw it he could be. He earned it. He lost her and his mother in the span of a month and what hurt the most was that she had heard about his mother's accident and could've come home to be with him—she chose not to. He wasn't sure if he could ever forgive her that.

She looked around, wary of his neighbors. "Are we going to do this through the door?"

"The door's not locked," he informed her. He refused to make this simple for her. Hell, she hadn't made the transition any easier for him. What did he owe her? He'd given her his heart and she'd stomped all over it.

Peyton pulled open the door, shuffling past him into the apartment. It was quaint, but homey. It was how she'd always imagined his own place would look. It wasn't scattered with basketball memorabilia and dirty clothes like the atypical bachelor pad—like the kind she'd envisioned that he'd have. Instead it had small traditional touches that he must've inherited from his mom. It boasted the table that had adorned Karen's kitchen for years as well as a few of her kitchen décor. It touched her heart in a disarming way that he'd taken a part of his mom into the new life that he was bridging for he and Lily. It was typical behavior for Lucas Scott; she expected no less, no different.

Her eyes continued to take in her surroundings—the pearl white linoleum floors, the oak cabinets, the stainless appliances and the unmistakable feeling of home that is all represented. The room itself was littered with Lily's things: a scooter lying on the floor, her Hello Kitty backpack slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, a pink bow left on the kitchen table, a doll perched in its own chair at the table. They were reminders of the new woman in his life, the one that had left the room and had yet to return. Peyton wondered where she'd disappeared to, but before she could give it much thought, Lucas broke through her thoughts.

"You mind if I finish?" he asked, twirling his spatula around, gesturing to the half-finished pan of pancakes on the stove.

It was the most sincere he'd spoken to her. A welcome change. "No, of course not," she said flashing him a smile, though it went unnoticed when he turned his back to her to return to preparing his meal.

"We have pancakes every Sunday morning," he began explaining without thinking. "Sometimes it's blueberry, others it's chocolate chip; it's very seldom plain. Though, it's been chocolate chip for the past month and frankly I'm getting tired of them. But they're Lily's favorite." While the pancake sizzle on the griddle, Lucas turned his body toward Peyton. "You can start talking whenever you want. I'm listening."

Peyton sighed, her fingers hooking in the back pockets of her jeans. "I don't even know where to begin," she said truthfully. She didn't know where to start, what subjects he would open to hearing and what subjects he didn't care to talk about at all.

"I'm sorry I can't help you there, Peyton," he said, his tone sharpening once more. "I'm not the one that needs to clear anything up." Lucas noted the sliver of bitterness that had seeped into his voice. He wished he could stop that from happening but when she was around and they were conversing his emotions weren't easily managed.

"I'm not here to torture you, Lucas." He shot her a perturbed look. "Well... I'm not trying to."

He scratched his head, flipping the pancake over. "I didn't think you were," he surmised. "It's just... harder than I thought it'd be." He paused, staring at the crackling pancake with concentration. "I thought—hoped really—that seeing you again wouldn't affect me so much. I guess even after four years not much has changed. I still feel like I'm a sophomore in high school in love with that untouchable cheerleader."

She smiled at that, moving to the doorway. She looked out, watching the neighbors from across the way as they exited their apartment. It was a young couple, somewhere around Luke's age. When the woman looked over at Peyton, she smiled and waved. Peyton responded in kind, telling Lucas as she turned to face him, "This seems like a nice building."

"It is. The manager can be a tad annoying, but he likes all the kids."

"If you don't mind my asking, what happened to the house?"

He looked over at her, slipping the finished pancake from the pan to a Hello Kitty plate. He turned off the burner, setting the Lily's breakfast aside to cool. "I don't mind. The bank actually seized it. My mom had mortgaged it so it was theirs for the taking. It was good for me and Lily, though. We got a fresh start and there are a lot of kids her age here. It's closer to work and Lily's school. We like it. It's home."

"That's good." Peyton looked in the living room, meeting the eyes of one very curious little girl. Lily was kneeling in front of the television, the remote clutched in her tiny hand. However, the moment that Lily caught her eye, she snapped her eyes back to the television screen. "About what happened between us…," Peyton began, watching as Lucas moved around the kitchen from the refrigerator to the pantry, grabbing the butter and syrup.

"Can we table this discussion for a few minutes?" he asked, crossing to the cabinets with his booty to add the final ingredients to the pancakes.

Peyton nodded her head. "Sure." She stood at the door, an observer to his routine. He topped off the pancakes with butter and syrup (an abundance, she noted), then fixed Lily's spot at the table. After setting the plate of heart shaped pancakes accompanied with a glass of strawberry milk across from the doll already perched at the table, he crossed the kitchen once more, extracting plastic plate, glass and utensils, setting them in front of the doll's place.

She watched him, not sure what to make of it. It was such a regular thing for him that he didn't even look her way to gauge her reaction. Confident that everything was as it should be, Lucas called Lily into the kitchen. Peyton heard the clicking off of the television followed by the patter of Lily's bare feet against the linoleum as she trampled back into the room.

Lucas hefted Lily into her seat, pushed her in, then bent down so that he was eye level with his sister. "Peyton and I are going to step outside on the balcony to talk. Can you be a good girl and eat while we do that?"

With a nod of her head, she agreed, picking up her fork and digging into her breakfast. "Hey Luke?"

Luke swung back around toward Lily. "Yeah?"

"You fixed Miss Kay pancake and milk, too, right?"

He scoffed. "Like I would forget." He winked at her, then began leading Peyton through the living room to the sliding glass door that led out onto the small balcony. He pushed the door closed, but made sure that he was standing where he could see Lily. Leaning against the railing, he crossed his legs at the ankles and prodded, "You wanted to talk." He gestured to the concrete before them. "You have the floor."

Peyton eyed him for several moments before asking, "When did you get to be this way?"

"I'm sorry, you'll have to specify. What way?"

"You weren't ever this cold hearted. Not even to Dan."

He scoffed, turning around to look at the shrubbery below. "I didn't love Dan. I loved you Peyton and you left. You left and you called it quits when I could've used you the most."

"Lucas, I was always a phone call away. You knew that."

"You said you were, Peyton, but you weren't. Not really. You were always unreachable. It was always off or in your car or went directly to voicemail. I was having an ongoing affair with your voicemail inbox until finally enough had been enough." He hated rehashing their pasts, but she was the one that wanted to clear the air and clear they would. "When I called you to end things... I was in the hospital." He heard her sharp intake of breath, felt her hand touch his shoulder. He didn't want her pity and he most certainly didn't want any excuses that came with the truth. It was much too late for that.

He quickly shrugged off her hand when she asked what had been wrong. "It wasn't my heart if that's what you're thinking. It has it flaws believe me but at the time it was only suffering from missing you, wanting you." He shook his head, finding the thought, the words amusing now. "I had a little run in with a parent of one of the players. There was a scuffle. My head hit the lockers. No one thought that I wasn't going to wake up. My mom wanted to call you but she didn't have your number. When I came to I tried, but I kept getting your voicemail. Big surprise there. So, I just faced the facts. As much as we wanted our relationship to work, it couldn't. And the rest, as they say, is history," he finished, neither of them missing the double entendre.

Peyton didn't need the trip down memory lane. She knew that day like she knew the lines in the back of her hand. She'd been at the label when she'd gotten his call. It was Sunday, the day when her dad usually called. She'd just turned her ringer back on in preparation for her dad's weekly phone call.

When the phone had rang and she'd picked it up to hear Lucas on the other end, she'd been ecstatic to hear his voice. Though, it was easy to detect that something was amiss. He was reserved. Distant. Not like the Lucas that she was accustomed to talking to who would ask her questions and regal her with stories of his own life without her even having to ask. She'd had to pry words out of him until he'd expressed his need for a break. She had agreed simply because she knew it was the right thing to do. She was in L.A. and Lucas was back home in Tree Hill. As much as she loved him and wanted their relationship to work, she knew that realistically this was the best decision for both of them.

"No matter how things had ended between us you should've come back for the funeral. I wanted you there—no, _needed_ you there." The minute the words left his mouth he regretted them. They made him sound weak and the last thing he wanted to be was weak.

Peyton felt her heart crumble at his words, her body shaking with the tone of his voice. She still felt so utterly ashamed by not coming back for Karen's funeral. It hadn't been her best decision, but she didn't want to sully whatever Lucas and she had left by showing up where she wasn't wanted. "I'm sorry, Luke. I know I should've been there."

He scoffed at her humble yet useless apology. "She wanted me to fight for you, _for us_. She knew that deep down that letting you go wasn't what I truly wanted. She understood why I did it but I don't think she wanted me to throw away my chance with you like she did with Keith. By the time he came back into her life there were so many odds stacked against them." He looked at Peyton then. "Things are different now. Maybe once we could've… but I only have room for Lily in my life," he said, glancing into the living room as she walked back into the living room having finished her breakfast, toting Miss Kay under her arm. She waved at him before she climbed onto the sofa, stretching out to watch her cartoons. "If you expected anymore, I'm sorry."

She didn't show it, but her heart splintered into a thousands pieces with his harsh words. "I didn't," she assured him. She had wanted to clear the air and come to an understanding before she told him that she was moving back to town. However, the more he talked the less that a hope for a reconciliation came to be. Now that she knew Luke's feelings on everything, she decided against telling him of her plans—for the time being anyway.

Lucas wanted to be relieved that she wasn't hoping for a reconciliation, but the notion bugged him more than he liked. He'd always kept hope alive that someday he and Peyton would appease their relationship—if he could get past all the bitterness, at least.

When Lucas became aware of the phone ringing from inside, he pushed aside the glass and stepped back into the apartment. As he moved into the kitchen to answer the phone, Peyton said from behind him, "I should go."

"I thought you had some things to say, air to clear," Lucas reminded her, ignoring his screeching phone. Peyton opened her mouth to speak a few seconds later just as the answering machine picked up and Claudia's voice wafted into the room.

Peyton snapped her mouth closed, quickly reminded that Lucas had moved on past her and what they had had. She listened to the young girl's voice as she promised to meet Lucas and Lily at the beach later that afternoon. The things that she had come here intending to say were fruitless now. She'd be better off keeping them to herself instead of making their situation any worse—as if it could get any worse.

Following the beep, she continued to the door, telling him, "You should get that, Lucas." At the door she paused, turning back to him to say, "I'm really glad you're happy, Lucas. With Claudia and… everything."

Lucas remained stoic and stayed that way until long after Peyton had left. It took him a few moments before it sunk in that Peyton was under the misguided impression that he was involved with Claudia. He could only guess who'd put that thought into her head. Balling his fist, he stalked to the phone, grabbing it hastily, murmuring, "I'm going to kill them. Both of them."

—

"I didn't tell her, Luke. Honest," Haley admonished, wincing against her best friend's accusation. "I didn't even really talk to her."

"Did Nathan?" He couldn't see his brother resorting to subterfuge, but all of his friends were very protective of him and had been ever since the breakup and his mother's death.

Haley bit her lip. Nathan had confessed to her what he'd done and she'd reprimanded him for it, but had she had the opportunity she was pretty sure she would've done the same thing. Though it _was_ wrong. She blew out a breath, admitting, "Yes. Nathan led Peyton to believe that you and Claudia were involved."

"But… why?"

"I don't know why he did it exactly. She was watching you on the dance floor with Lily and he saw her. I'm not even sure what they really said to one another, but he said that the lie just flew out of his mouth."

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, leaning his shoulder against the wall. "I'll have to set the record straight with her. Sooner or later. And later is sounding really good right now." He didn't think it'd be wise to go after so soon after their… tête-à-tête.

There was silence on the other end of the phone as Haley mulled over her next words. Lucas didn't particularly like when she gave him advice or told him what he _needed_ to do when he'd already decided what he _wasn't_ going to do. Finally, she broke her silence, murmuring, "Lucas, you know we love you and just want you to be happy, right?"

"I know, Haley." He knew that their intentions were honorable. His happiness meant the world to them and if they had it their way his happily ever after would include Peyton. You can't always get what you want, though. Unfortunately.

She sighed. "If you keep holding onto the past you won't be happy."

Lucas looked back at Lily, knowing deep down that Haley was right. At least partially. He couldn't just forgive Peyton for forgetting what they'd had when he couldn't. When they broke up she went about her life as if he'd never been apart of it. He hadn't had the same luxury. Then there was his mom who'd wanted Peyton to be a part of their family and she didn't even have the decency to swallow her pride and attend the funeral. _Not even for him._ Closing his eyes, pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he surmised, "Is that your way of telling me to suck it up and let it go?"

She snickered. "What do you think?"

Lucas expelled a labored breath, feeling a headache coming on. He moved into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator, something to distract himself from Haley's unwanted advice. "I think it's not that simple, Haley."

He grabbed a can of soda, kicking the door closed behind himself. He couldn't be sure but he thought he heard her grit her teeth. He flicked the top, lifting the can to his mouth to take a long swallow.

"Maybe not, but you can make it that simple. Only you can change the outcome here, Luke."

They spoke for a few minutes before Haley hung up, unable to conceal her annoyance with him any longer.

After tidying up the kitchen, Lucas joined Lily in the living room, settling beside her to dwindle away the rest of their Sunday watching cartoons.

Unfortunately cartoons were the farthest thing from his mind.


	5. It Doesn't Work to Pretend

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

—

**04. It Doesn't Work to Pretend**

Lucas was sitting in the living room, his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching yet another television broadcast of _Bad Boys_—whether it was part one or two he couldn't be sure since the storylines were vaguely similar.

He was nursing a beer, the remnants of his discarded dinner sitting beside him on the sofa. When he'd picked Lily up from school she'd begged him for tacos, but when he'd made them and set them before her, she had quickly changed her mind and wanted cereal instead. _Women._ Even at four years old they didn't know what they wanted.

It wasn't often that he had a night to himself but he enjoyed nights when he did. It gave him time to think, to ponder, to reflect as he'd been doing for the past week since his confrontation with Peyton. He'd been haunted by past mistakes and present complications, neither of which he was capable of escaping. He tried to keep busy to keep his thoughts from turning to her, but it was futile. He'd thought of nothing else, nothing but her since she'd left his apartment under the impression that he was dating Lily's babysitter.

He'd reamed his brother over that. But his anger had been short-lived; he couldn't stay mad at Nathan. Nathan had simply been trying to get a rise out of Peyton, feel her out. It was obvious that she still had lingering feelings for him, he just didn't know how deep those feelings ran—or if he really wanted to know.

Hearing the soft rap at the door, Lucas set his beer down, crossing through the kitchen and into the foyer to answer the door. He was surprised to find Peyton standing on the other side, wringing her hands nervously.

"Hey," he greeted her, surprised. The smile he mustered was genuine; he was glad to see her. She was a welcome distraction from spending Saturday night at home alone in front of the TV, not that he thought she was there to afford him some company. Not after the way he'd treated her last week. God, he'd been such a putz.

Lucas held open the door, waving her inside. He stepped aside, allowing her entrance into the apartment and as she had done the last time, her eyes roamed around. Obviously she hadn't finished her perusal of his home the last time she'd been there. Lucas was glad that she was so curious about his home, his life.

"I'm sorry to just drop in like this. I mean. It's late and—"

Lucas held up his hand, interjecting, "Peyton, it's fine. Besides it's only after eight." She glanced around, looking for Lily. Lucas must've sensed her hesitation because he was quick to inform her of Lily's slumber.

"Oh. Well. That's… good. We can talk without… well. We can talk."

"Anything particular you'd like to talk about?" She answered his question with a solemn look. For a few moments she stared at him silently, obviously waging an internal battle with herself. Whatever she needed—or wanted—to get off her chest he wished she'd just spit it out already. This cat and mouse was tired.

"You're the reason I came back," she spat out quickly. Lucas was taken aback, but remained calm and quiet, thankfully. "I know you've moved on and I'm happy that you have. I tried. I did. I couldn't. No one compared to you. No one _was_ you. I know I have no right to say that and you have no right to believe it, but it's true." She breezed past him, continuing. She'd come here on a mission and dammit if she wasn't going to say everything she should've said the last time.

"When I got the invitation to the wedding I tried ways to finagle my way out of it because I didn't want to see you." When he frowned, displeased at her words, she added, "I didn't want to see you with your new girlfriend—or worse you new wife. I couldn't… I just couldn't. But everytime I opened my refrigerator there was that damn invitation taunting me, teasing me, _daring_ me."

Peyton took a deep breath, seeing that Lucas was hanging on her every word. His arms were crossed across his chest, his eyes focused intently on her and her tirade. Glad that she had his undivided his attention, she forged on.

"Finally I knew that to move on I had to face you. But Brooke…," she shook her head, remembering many of their conversations leading up to the wedding and Brooke's insistence that she was still in love with Lucas no matter how much she denied it. "Brooke insisted that I still loved you. Of course I couldn't admit it. To anyone. I had no right to. I left, after all. I chose to stay gone. It was my fault that we fell apart." She spared him a look. She'd admitted her mistake and waited for him to take pleasure in it. But he didn't. He straightened, setting his jaw. Apparently he hadn't liked something she'd said, and she wasn't even finished. She sighed, reeling in her resolve. She had to get this out or else. "The night before I left L.A. I admitted that she was right. I didn't want to admit it, but she was. I was still—am still—very much in love with you."

He remained silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. When he met her eyes, he wasn't angered or embittered. He was… puzzled. His voice was faint and full of awe, a welcome change from the bitter one that she'd come to know so well. "What are you trying to do here, Peyton? What am I supposed to do with that? What am I supposed to say?"

"I'm not sure, Lucas. I just wanted to let you know how I felt."

"_Four years_, Peyton," he reminded her, palming his face. This was all too much to take in. Peyton still had residual feelings for him. Sure he could make all this easier and admit that he still had some residual feelings for her, too. But he couldn't—wouldn't. She had left to pursue her career, had turned her back on them. He wouldn't make this easier her. Not at all. He'd be a damn fool to do that, to let her exert that kind of control over him again.

"Are you ever going to forgive me for leaving?"

"Believe me I'd like to, but I've forgiven so much over the past few years that I just don't have any forgiveness left." He paused, expelled the breath that he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "I guess you'll have to try to forgive me that." He turned and stalked into the kitchen.

When Peyton made her feet move a few moments later, she found him standing with his back to her, his hands flattened against the tabletop. She hovered in the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the wall. "I don't really blame you," she confessed, crossing her ankles, her shoulders slumping. "What I did was unforgivable."

He turned toward her then, easing himself onto the table. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly, searching for the right words. His hands fell into his lap as he said, "I know it's not fair to you, Peyton, but everything about this isn't fair. None of it. How we feel, how we don't. Regardless this isn't just about the two of us anymore."

Her heart sunk a little at that. She'd been prepared for that admission. Lily was like a daughter to him, something that she saw for herself in the way that he acted and spoke with the little girl. She was awed by his way with his sister. During their time together his interaction with children had been limited. Of course there'd been Jenny, but Lucas hadn't nearly spent the time with Jake's daughter like she had. And Lily and James were only a few weeks old when she'd escaped to Los Angeles. She hadn't seen him grow with them until last week when she'd come back to town. One fact was inescapable—the Lucas before her was so much different from the Lucas that she last remembered.

It wasn't beneath her to admit that she'd dreamt of having a family with Lucas Scott one day. She still held onto that dream, tucked it away in her heart and prayed that somehow, someday that dream would become a reality. It may be a fool's dream, but it was _hers_ and it wasn't one that she was ready to give up on.

"I know that."

There was a warning in his voice, a clipped tone that she didn't like much. "Just so we're clear."

A look crossed over his face. His mouth opened, his eyes softened, but then he snapped his mouth closed, his eyes hardening once again. "What?" she snapped, seeing the pensive look on his face.

Lucas met her eyes, shaking his head. "Nothing," he admonished, even though his real feelings were lurking on the tip of his tongue. Peyton had a way of running when things got complicated. So many times over the course of their relationship she had—and he had too, he knew that—but now he had Lily to think about and bringing a flaky woman into Lily's life—even if that woman was Peyton—was just not an option for him.

Peyton straightened, her stance inquisitive and unyielding. "No. You were going to say something. What?" She'd had a week to ready herself for this confrontation and she wasn't leaving until everything had been said and squared away. She was getting her closure. She wasn't leaving until they'd laid everything on the line.

She was supposed to be back in L.A. already. Her original flight home had been scheduled for Sunday afternoon, but she'd put it off a week, choosing to stick around to settle the lease on her new apartment and make the final arrangements for her new job. She'd never considered a position in radio broadcasting, but that's exactly what she was doing. It had to be more rewarding than being an assistant to the assistant, not having the opportunity to move up, or have her suggestions taken seriously.

Lucas sighed, looking away. He focused on a spot on the wall—anywhere on nothing particular—just so that he didn't have to face her, knowing full well that it was the cowardly thing to do. "You're unreliable, Peyton. You've run from me so many times. If I would let you back in how could I trust that you wouldn't run again?" He met her eyes then. Her face was blank as he stared at her, waiting for her to respond.

Peyton squared her shoulders, set her jaw, ready to pounce. "That's not fair."

Lucas slid off the table, moving across the kitchen toward her. "Isn't it? You used to always throw my shortcomings back at me." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his track pants. "Hurts doesn't it?"

"I know that my decisions weren't always sound, Lucas, but I loved you—_I love you_. I haven't ran from that in a very long time."

He was quick to remind her, "You ran all the way to Los Angeles." She averted her eyes as he said, "You can deny it until you're blue in the face, Peyton, but you did run. Maybe not consciously, but when you didn't come back… you ran."

"You know what? Okay. Maybe I did run. My last few years in Tree Hill were horrible, Lucas. Or have you forgotten?"

He scoffed. "Oh. _Thanks_," he said dryly. He was glad their time together had meant so little to her. At least he knew where he stood. This conversation was a moot point. Their time had passed and hanging on was only ruining what friendship they had a chance to salvage. "Glad to know that I meant so little to you, Peyton."

A laugh escaped her throat. "That's funny coming from you. Since I've come back to town you've been treating me like a leper. That's unjustified I think. If anyone meant little to either one of us it was me to you, not the other way around."

"Don't put words into my mouth, Peyton," he warned with a glare and a shake of his head. "Don't tell me how I feel or how I don't feel or… hell, what I should feel. These days I don't feel much of anything. The fact of the matter is that you left. You turned your back on us and the future that we had planned. It was supposed to only be a summer. You swore that you were coming back." He blew out a breath, his eyes dropping away, whispering, "And then you didn't."

"How is it that you're the victim here?" she practically yelled. "You could've tried a little bit harder, you know. You knew what I was trying to accomplish in L.A. You knew that succeeding in the music industry was important to me. And you say that I didn't care? I don't think you did, either." She glared at him, squaring her shoulders.

Lucas wasn't going to stand idly by and let her shift the blame onto his shoulders. "I supported you," he reminded her. Hell, he made no qualms when she was leaving for Los Angeles. Okay, he digressed. At the end, but that was only because he loved her so much that he didn't want to see her leave.

He knew how he felt and how he didn't. He still loved this woman even though she left him and aggravated him and sent his blood boiling in his skin. He loved her. He wanted her. The time had come to move past the blame and accusations. He was tired of being alone.

He'd been watching his friends move on with their lives while he stood idly by merely a spectator, craving what they found, too chicken himself to do anything about it. "I supported you every step of the way, Peyton. I did everything in my power to see that our relationship survived. Phone calls, emails, the trips out to L.A. But sometimes enough is enough. Two months stretched into three and then four and—" He blew out a breath. "And then I couldn't wait any longer for you to come home. I knew you were gone."

"You're such a coward, Lucas." She was seething as she spun around and began making her way toward the door. She was fighting a never ending battle. Lucas would never forgive her and she had grown tired of apologizing. Continuing to blame one another for the fail of their relationship was getting them nowhere. They couldn't reconcile anything, not even their friendship.

They weren't finished and he wasn't about to let her leave with this still unresolved. He still had things to tell her—the Claudia thing for one. Lucas acted on impulse, and reaching forward, tamped his fingers around her wrist to halt her escape. But he pulled her around much too fast. Her boot caught and he had to grab her waist to avert her fall. Her body collided into his creating a friction that he hadn't been prepared for.

He'd held her at the wedding, but he'd been holding onto his anger then, too. He hadn't focused on her body, her curves, the feel of her skin… Sure, he was aware of them, but he hadn't let them affect him.

But he was affected now.

It wasn't lost to Lucas that her breasts were heaving against his chest, her breathing ragged. Her cheeks were tinted pink—it was almost as if she were aroused. The telltale signs were there—her erratically jumping pulse beneath his fingers as he held onto her wrist, her darkened eyes, rosy cheeks. The sight sent his blood racing through his veins. He knew she wasn't, but it was as if.

He fought against the urge to kiss her. She was only a hairsbreadth away. He could cross the space to her lips and—no! He had to be strong. He had to resist. But then his grip on rationale slipped from his grasp the moment her tongue peeked out of her mouth to wet her lips, breaking what little of his resolve that remained. The past disappeared into oblivion and their recent bout of hateful words and accusations was forgotten.

Lucas dropped her wrist, hand curling around her nape to haul her mouth to his. His lips swept over hers and he couldn't suppress the groan that bubbled out the moment their lips touched. A soft purr emanated from Peyton's throat which only fueled the fire burning inside him.

_You're been reckless_, his conscious shouted at him. _You're thinking with your downstairs brain, moron_, it continued. But it was wrong. He was thinking with his heart and that was far worse than thinking rationally or sexually or—

He wanted her. God did he want her. Even if it was one last time he had to indulge himself this. He knew better, however. The door was always open for her and despite anything he'd told her over the course of the week or tonight, he knew that was the truth. Peyton Sawyer was not out of his system—not by a long shot.

—

"I have a confession to make," Lucas said, disturbing the silence that had enveloped them. He held Peyton against his chest, trying his best to ignore the stirrings of his body as her fingers danced across his torso.

She lifted her head to look at him, the sight branding him breathless. Her lips were red from _his_ kisses. Hair mussed from _his_ fingers. Eyes glazed in satisfaction by _his_ doing. God he'd missed her. She was a sight for his very sore eyes.

"It's about Claudia…"

Peyton sat up, dropping her face into her hands. "Oh, my God. I totally forgot about her. I didn't think… we… I think I'm going to be sick." Peyton swung her legs over the bed and was about to push herself to her feet when Lucas curled his fingers around her arm. She looked back at him, surprised at his confession.

"She's not my girlfriend, Peyton."

Her brows knitted together, furrowing in confusion. The sexual haze evaporated from her eyes, saddening him that he had to bring this up now and ruin the afterglow. "I don't understand."

"Nathan, he—" Lucas shook his head. "It doesn't matter. He lied and I'm sorry. Claudia's not my girlfriend, she's Lily's babysitter." Her face remained blank, so blank that he couldn't gauge her reaction.

"That's good…," she said her voice hoarse.

He gave her a pleading look, but she didn't move from her perch at the edge of the mattress. Okay, so she wouldn't come to him, he'd go to her. Moving behind her, he trailed his fingers down her spine, delighted in the small little moan that escaped her mouth. He smoothed her hair over her shoulder, pressing kisses to the nape of her neck, her shoulders.

"Lucas… what are we doing?"

He stopped his ministrations. "You need a diagram?"

She laughed. "No, of course not. I just meant—" Luke's mouth found hers and Peyton couldn't remember what her train of thought had been. All she could concentrate was Lucas pushing her back onto the mattress, his body covering hers. The morning would come soon and she feared that in the morning light everything would be so much different. So for tonight she surrendered her better judgment. She lay back, surrendering her body and her heart to Lucas, wishing that he'd treasure it, knowing that he would—but only until dawn.

—

Lucas stirred when he heard the door creaking open. He shot upright finding Lily standing in the doorway, her hand poised on the doorknob. She blinked at him, though her gaze was more focused on the female occupying his bed. "Hey Lily, what're you doing up this early?" His gaze shifted to the clock and—yep, it was the usual time she snuck into his room.

As if sensing what was going on, Peyton slowly roused, looking at him curiously. He nodded toward the door, her eyes flittering in that direction. She glanced from Lucas to Lily, blushing. She didn't know what she should do or say or if she should do or say anything at all. _Oh, this is bad_, she thought. So. Very. Bad. Instead of doing or saying anything that she shouldn't, she lay there as Lucas commandeered the situation.

"Why don't you go in the living room and I'll be out in a few minutes?" he suggested, hating having to banish Lily from his room. It was something he'd never done and this—having a woman in his bed—he'd never done, either. What had he been thinking last night? Oh, right. He hadn't been. He chanced a look at Peyton and he couldn't drum up an ounce of regret.

After the door had closed, Lucas slipped out of the bed, grabbing his boxers off the floor. As he pulled them up his legs, letting them snap into place at his waist, he told her, "I swore that I'd never do this."

"Do what?" she asked, looking at him confused. She'd been prepared for this. Though, it still didn't make the sting hurt any less.

"This," he said, his hand sweeping toward her and the bed. "I've never brought a woman here. I've never—," He broke off, seeing that she was hanging on his every word. He expelled a deep breath, shoving a hand through his sleep tousled hair. "We can't do this, Peyton. I thought that we could. But Lily… she means everything to me and after this…" He expected to see disappointment on her face, but all he saw was…awe? No. That couldn't be right—could it?

Peyton slid from the bed and silently began to pull her discarded clothes back on. There was no anger. There was no yelling. There was just… calm. And that annoyed Lucas more than the entire situation put together.

"I understand, Lucas. Probably better than you think." She knew what Lily meant to him—could see how much he loved that little girl in every little thing that he did and said. He wanted to live his life with Lily a particular way and who was she to come waltzing in to muck that up. Well, she wouldn't. She circled the bed toward him, reaching up to cup his cheek. "Maybe it's for the best anyway." She leaned forward, brushing her lips across his before she grabbed her boots and bounded from the room.

Lily was lying on the sofa and waved at her as she escaped Luke's room. She smiled, muttering, "Bye Lily," before she fled the apartment, managing to keep her tears at bay until she was back in her car and hightailing it out of the parking lot.

Back in the apartment, Lucas stepped out of his room, finding Lily sitting in the darkened living room, hugging Miss Kay to her chest. She glanced up at him as he approached, falling down beside her. He pulled her onto his lap, hugging her to his chest. As he held her he regretted allowing Peyton to leave. Was she ever going to stop running and was he ever going to stop allowing her to?

—

It had taken Lucas a few hours to decide on his course of action. He had debated whether or not to seek Peyton out to offer a more detailed explanation, an apology before finally, he decided that it was the right thing to do. For both of them. Later that morning, after breakfast had been eaten and the cartoon quota had been met, he'd called Claudia, asking her if she could spare an hour or two to watch Lily affording Lucas the time to head downtown in search of Peyton.

It hadn't taken him long to track her down. He'd called Brooke who'd given him the information he'd needed without question. By the time he'd arrived at her hotel, and made his inquiry, he was too late—she had already checked out.

On his way home he swung by the Rivercourt and parked in front of the harbor, sitting there simply to think. He thought about the previous weekend and how he'd felt upon seeing her again after so many years. Sure there were things that needed to be worked and though he was still pained by what had transpired all those years ago, Lucas knew that they could get through it—they had to. Still he was hesitant to take that step forward and do anything about it.

Leaning back against the headrest, he reached for his phone, speed dialing Haley. After five rings, she picked up, quickly explaining that she'd been giving James a bath. They spoke amicably for a few moments while she dressed James into his pajamas and then after she'd settled him down in front of the television, she said, "Okay. What's up?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, stepping out of his truck. He began making his way to the court, inhaling the fresh night air, wishing for a second that Peyton were here with him. He'd tell her that he didn't regret last night in the least. He hadn't managed to tell her that morning before she'd left—and he hated himself for it. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he'd simply used her. That wasn't the case. The fires had been crackling between them since she'd walked in his door and the arguing had commenced. An impulsive roll in the sheets had been inevitable. If it hadn't happened last night it would've happened eventually.

"Lucas, I've known you for how long? I can tell in your voice when something's wrong. So, are you going to tell me or am I going to have to make a special trip to Tree Hill to kick it out of you. Because I will."

And he knew she would. Smiling at the thought, he insisted, "Nothing's wrong. I mean, not really. I mean…," he trailed off, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache threatening to consume him. Finally he spat out, "I slept with Peyton."

"WHAT?" Haley exclaimed. When James shot his head up at her, giving her a disdainful look, she left the room and lowered her voice, probing, "When?"

Lucas could hear the happiness in her voice and hated that he was going to burst that bubble in a few moments. "Last night. She came over and we talked and… I don't know, Hales, it just happened and then this morning Lily came into my bedroom and she was still there—"

"Oh, no," Haley sighed. Nothing more needed to be said. Lucas had been adamant about the mixing of Lily and dating. In fact there was no mixing at all. She could only guess what he'd told Peyton after that. Not that she needed to guess; she knew the argument verbatim.

"I went looking for her, but by the time I did she had already checked out of her hotel." She was back in L.A. and once again he was left in Tree Hill, aching for her.

"So, what'd you call me for?"

"For some advice. For, I don't know… _something_. Tell me what an idiot I'm being. Tell me that I'm being stupid and foolish for pushing her away when all she could do was tell me that she loved me."

"Yes, Lucas, you're being an idiot and stupid and—wait. What? Peyton told you that she loves you?" Haley tried her best to tamp down the urge to scream. This just kept getting better and better. Now if only Lucas would admit the same.

Lucas let out a frustrated breath. "Have you not been listening to me?"

"Yes, and it seems to me that you know what you have to do—you just don't want to do it."

Haley was nothing if not perceptive. It was true that he knew what he wanted; he was just too much of a coward to do anything about it. At least Peyton had been right on the mark in that respect. He'd never been a coward about anything, except making a go of things with her.

"Whether I want to or not, Haley, it's pretty much a moot point now. She's gone. Again."

"You are such an idiot, Lucas. You know what you have to do. There's nothing more I can say but that. This is your mess. You clean it up."

Lucas wasn't surprised that she'd hung up on him. He snapped his phone shut, slipping it back into the pocket of his chinos.

Dammit, he hated it when Haley was right.

—

Peyton stood in her now empty Los Angeles loft, watching as the movers shuffled the remainder of her boxes out into the decrepit elevator. She signed off, handing the clipboard back to the burly mover. As they elevator began its trek to the first level, she took a moment to look around, savoring the last few moments of her lease. This had been her home for the past four years and it hurt her to leave it all behind. However, she was off to bigger and better things.

She was going home.

She wanted to believe that she wasn't going home to more than a new job and a newly leased apartment. She wanted to believe that she was going home back to Lucas. But as far as he was concerned it was made abundantly clear Sunday morning that there wasn't room for a woman in his life, even if that woman—especially if that woman—was her. It had stung, but she'd known the score all along. Not that she didn't hope. Because she did.

When she'd come to L.A. from Tree Hill she'd had so many dreams, so many aspirations. But she'd learned quick that things were different in L.A. The people. The clothes. Hell, even the men were different. She'd realized that after a handful of dates with models-on-the-brink, struggling actors, no-talent musicians. Everytime that she'd been on a date she'd found something wrong. They were nitpicky things, sure. He was too tall. His taste in music was questionable. He needed to shower more often.

And more often than not she left a date always finding the same thing wrong—he wasn't Lucas. That should've been her first clue that life in L.A. would never satisfy her.

If she'd never come to Los Angeles it was possible that they'd be married by now, perhaps they'd even be expecting their first child. They'd always talked about it—endlessly. Marriage. Children. They wanted to be settled, they wanted to be in love. And before they could make their dreams a reality, she had mucked it all up by choosing to follow her dream career instead of her heart. But she was following her heart now, even if it was four years too late. That had to count for something, right?

Turning off the last light, Peyton stepped into the elevator, eager to get to the airport. As the elevator shifted, shimmied, and began its descent she thought of Lucas, not that he was ever far from her thoughts. Somehow, someway they would get their second chance. She had to be optimistic that they would. If she let that hope slip through her grasp, what else did she have to cling to?

She'd told Lucas the night before she left to come to Los Angeles that she'd love him forever and not a single day had passed that she hadn't. She knew that she didn't deserve his love, but she needed it, wanted it.

Hitting the first floor, she exited the building and hopped into the cab waiting for her at the curb. The city faded behind her, the drive to the airport bringing her one step closer to the life that she'd left behind, the life that she was adamant about resuming, starting with Lucas Scott. 


	6. Gasping at Glimpses

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

—

**05. Gasping at Glimpses **

Brooke was at the airport waiting for Peyton when her plane landed in Tree Hill. She didn't know what her best friend was doing there, but despite that fact she was glad to see her. She could use the support, someone telling her that she was making the right choice, the one that was four years in the making. 

"I can't believe that you're really doing this. I mean... finally." Peyton scowled at her, falling into step beside Brooke as they began weaving their way through the crowded terminal.

"I've made a decision myself," Brooke said once they were outside, away from the hustle and bustle of Tree Hill's airport, the noise of the terminal.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"That I'm ready too," Brooke announced. "To go after what I want," she added when Peyton looked at her quizzically. Sighing, Brooke admitted, "New York's lonely. I don't have any family, any friends. All I do is work, work, work. I'm tired, Peyton. I'm tired of surviving, but not living. I'm ready for that next step. I'm ready to fall in love—really fall in love. This time for keeps."

"And you want to do that here? In Tree Hill?" Peyton asked wryly. Brooke had spent the last year living in excess in New York. She didn't see how Brooke could be satisfied with an ordinary life in Tree Hill.

"It's home," Brooke said, ushering Peyton into a taxi. "Besides you're here now. It makes sense. The gang is coming home, one by one. Besides I can work here just as easily as I can in New York. I started the line here, it'll be like coming full circle. The investors, the stockholders they don't care where I work as long as I meet my deadlines."

The taxi lurched forward, Peyton falling silent, her gaze fixated out the window. They were home. It was unbelievably frightening. She had come home for her just as much for Lucas. What would his reaction be? Would he be surprised? Perhaps he would not care at all. Whatever the case may be, she was not leaving again. She was going to show him that he could trust her, that he could let her in and that she would not betray him ever again.

She felt Brooke take her hand, gently squeezing. "It's going to be okay, Peyton. It's all going to work out. Just wait and see. It's all going to be like it should. In time."

Peyton smiled flatly hoping that Brooke was right. Then she had to be. She wouldn't let herself that this was all for nothing. No, there was a silver lining; she was sure of it.

—

Lucas had spent the past weeks, walking around in a daze. The days flew by, but he could barely remember getting out of bed, his thoughts were so muddled. He thought about Peyton constantly, wondering how she was doing in L.A., what she was doing in L.A. His days were plagued with work and keeping up with Lily, but his nights… he nights were the worst. He barely slept, plagued he was about the night that he'd spent with Peyton, the night that should have never happened, but the same one that he could not help reliving over and over again in his dreams. It was like a nightmare that he couldn't shake, but this, this was so different. His dream was more in keeping of a forbidden fantasy, one that was unattainable.

But that was the rub. He could have it, if only he'd open his life, his heart to her. But he'd done that once, hadn't he? And she'd trod all over it. He was a fool, but he wasn't misbegotten. He learned from his mistakes and never made the same one twice. Unless it was Peyton, that little annoying voice in his head informed him.

He had picked up the phone so many times to call her. More than once he'd almost booked a flight to L.A. to see her, to talk to her, but that would only make matters much worse. Besides that gesture spoke volumes that he wasn't ready for yet.

When Claudia had dropped Lily off at the school this afternoon, his sister had inquired about going to see their mom. He couldn't begrudge Lily this, as much as he wanted to go home, sit on the balcony with a beer and continue to sulk—even though the sulking was getting him nowhere.

Even after three weeks, Peyton's scent clung to his bed sheets, the memory of their night together imprinted in not only in his mind, but in his room as well. Long, tanned legs. Smooth, creamy skin. The glazed look in her eyes. The way her breath caressed his neck. Remembering her at the height of climax taunted him the most. The feelings that swam through him as her back arched and she screamed his name in ecstasy…

"Are you sad, Luke?" Lily asked, interrupting his trip to Hell as they made their way across the cemetery greens toward their mom's grave.

He cleared his throat, the question stupefying him. However, Luke didn't waver. "What do you mean?" he asked, pulling at the collar of his polo shirt, ignoring the uncomfortable tightening of his groin. He had to stop reliving that night. He just had to. Or else it was going to drive him mad with need and want. "Do I look sad?"

"Well… you don't smile. Not since the pretty lady left anyway." She stopped, squinting up at him, never loosening her grip on his hand. "How come you don't smile, Luke?"

He sighed, unable to believe that he was so transparent—even to a four year old. He'd been exceptionally preoccupied lately but he hadn't expected her to pick up on that. "It's complicated, Lily," he said, hoping that excuse tided her over for the time being. "Will it make you feel better if I promise to smile more?"

Lily shook her head, her pigtails twisting around her cherub face. She stared up at him for a long moment before she began walking again, pulling him along with her.

For ten minutes he stood aside stewing while Lily chatted animatedly with their mom and then Keith. After she was finished, she began leading the way back to the truck. She remained quiet during the trek back which was just as well, he was lost in his thoughts anyway.

As they neared the truck, Lucas spotted a familiar head across the way. It couldn't be, he told himself. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. Looking harder, his eyes were not deceiving him—Peyton was standing a few yards away visiting her own mother's grave.

When she glanced up and caught him staring at her, she lifted her hand in a small wave. He watched her hesitate a moment, not sure whether to approach them or not. Then, just as he'd begun to think that she was just going to leave, she began moving in their direction. Quickly, he lifted Lily into arms, fearing what he might do if his hands were free to move of their own volition.

She met him in front of his trunk, fidgeting. She folded and unfolded her arms, making her unease apparent. That was his fault. They had just gotten comfortable—relatively speaking, of course—with one another before they'd spent the night together. But it wasn't that night that was the problem. No, it was the morning after, the things he had said. He was single and rightfully so.

Lucas swallowed a sigh when Peyton finally spoke. "Hey," she said, the greeting coming out hoarse as if she didn't trust her own voice.

Instead of offering the same sentiment, or something equally casual, he spat, "What are you doing here?" Seeing her pained expression, he smiled weakly, reiterating, "I mean what are doing back in town." _Smooth, jackass._

Peyton averted her gaze, pausing. She had hoped to put this off for a little longer, prepare herself. But he'd asked and she had no intention of lying. "I guess I should tell you… I mean I meant to tell you when I was here a few weeks ago, but things got out of control and I never got the chance." She took a breath, pasting on a smile. "I'm moving back to town. Though technically I guess you could say I've already moved."

It was as if the earth had shifted beneath his feet. "What?" he balked, her statement unexpected. Emotions swirled through him, elation compounding them all—hopefully he hid that well. "When'd this happen?"

"I don't know… about a month or two ago, I guess. The lease on my loft was expiring, they were doing some downsizing at the label and I just… I wasn't meant to live that life. I thought I could… I thought that's what I wanted." Her shoulders rose and fell with a nonchalant shrug. "Things change," she said, giving him a pointed look.

Lucas felt Lily's arms tighten around his neck. "Still I wish you would've told me."

"It wouldn't have changed anything, Lucas. We would still be where we are." She wished she could say otherwise, but her hope of reconciling with Lucas had disappeared on the wind the moment she had stepped out of his apartment the morning after their night together. Though, a part of still waited, hoped. Standing before him now, though, all aspirations were as fleeting as her music career.

"I could've—" He breathed. "I don't know... helped you move or paint or something."

Her eyebrow shot up. Amused, she echoed, "Helped me paint?"

Lucas smiled at her. The look she gave him was downright comical. It may be true that she had changed, but he seriously doubted that her need to personalize her surroundings had. Peyton loved her art. It was that facet about her that had reeled him in, it was the one thing that he hoped never changed. "A lot of things have changed about you, Peyton, but I seriously doubt that's one."

She blushed. "You're right."

"So, do you need help painting or moving or anything?" he asked, eager to be of some assistance, some excuse to spend time with her, no matter how awkward their situation became.

She shook her head, not that she would reject his help. "I'm pretty much all settled in. I haven't made any preparations to paint yet. I'll keep you in mind if I do."

"That's all I ask."

Wow. They'd finally had a conversation that didn't lead to arguing. What were the odds? She hated to disrupt that tranquility, wanted to hold onto it as long as she could, but she had to be elsewhere. "Well, I have to go. Lots of… unpacking to do." _Liar._ Her gaze fell on Lily who was watching her, her head cocked to the side, sizing her up. She stuffed her hand in her pockets. "I'll see you two around."

"Bye," Lily said, returning Peyton's smile. As she watched Peyton walk away her smile turned into a frown as she told her brother, "She looks sad."

Lucas gulped. "Yeah. Yeah she does," he choked, his eyes never leaving Peyton, even after she'd climbed into her car and pulled away, disappearing through the cemetery gates and out of his line of sight.

—

It'd been a week since Peyton had run into Lucas at the cemetery and since then there'd been three more awkward encounters. Once was plenty, but anymore was tempting the fates. Everytime she happened upon him he had Lily with him and they'd been doing some bonding father-daughter-like activity. It made her heart swell and break at the same time.

Once they were off to the flower shop to send flowers to Haley for her birthday. Lucas was in a hurry then and hadn't had time to talk even though Lily had informed him as they walked away that he was being rude.

The following day they'd been leaving the movie theatre after watching the latest child-friendly film. She'd been taking a walk around town to clear her head when she'd happened upon them. Lily had told her that she couldn't hear the movie over Luke's snores—they'd all had a laugh at his expense. She didn't loiter that time, lying that she had work to do. She'd looked back at them as she hurried down the sidewalk and each time she had glanced over her shoulder, his eyes had been on her.

And here they were again.

This morning when she'd set out for her run she hadn't been prepared to run into him again. She hadn't yet dealt the last few encounters, not needing a new one to mull and fret over. She was halfway down the beach when she spotted them trudging along the water's edge. In one hand Lily held onto a bright pink pail while the other was ensconced with Luke's. Peyton slowed to a stop, catching her breath, watching them. Luke bent down, plucking something out of the water. He showed it to Lily, then dropped it into her pail. She was too far away to tell what it was. A rock? A hermit? A sea shell?

Peyton approached them warily, her heart pounding against her chest. She silently begged it to give into quiet. Being back in Tree Hill, she knew that she was going to run the risk of encountering Lucas time and again. She just hadn't thought it'd be so _often_. Apparently the feeling was mutual. "Well, this is a surprise," Lucas drawled, lifting his head toward her when she joined them.

Peyton snorted. "It shouldn't be. This has been happening for days now."

Lucas laughed, the morning tide nipping at his bare feet. She wondered if the water was cold, if it bothered him any. He made no move to change his position so she was left to assume that he was perfect exactly where he was.

"I have shells!" Lily boasted eagerly, showing Peyton her pink pail full of seashells and rocks.

"That's a nice collection you've got there," Peyton said, mimicking the little girl's glee. The simplest things filled them with wonder.

Lily sighed dramatically, glancing from Peyton to her side at Lucas. "I've had to pick them all by myself. Luke's being a butthead and doesn't wanna help."

Peyton couldn't help laughing. "It's not funny," he told her, pushing Lily to stand in front of him, his hands resting on her shoulders.

"It kind of is," Peyton insisted. Narrowing her gaze on Lucas, she reprimanded, "How can you not help her pick seashells, Luke? How?"

"Okay. You know, you don't get to tease me about this." His tone was teasing.

"Would you help us pick seashells?" Lily looked up her hopefully and Peyton hated to say no. She didn't think it wise to say yes, considering.

"I'd love to, honey, but I can't." Lily frowned and for a moment Peyton could swear that was disappointment that washed over Luke's face, too. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend the morning searching for shells with Lucas and Lily. She'd rather do nothing else. But it was an unfortunate thing, work. And she was filling in for one of the weekend disc jockeys in an hour or so. Stupid unreliable Tony. Why'd his wife have to pick this today of all days to go into labor?

Lucas picked up Lily's hand and began to pull her away. "Well, we'll let you get back to your run."

"Lucas…" She tried to stop him, but he was already walking away, pulling Lily along beside even though she kept glancing back at Peyton over her shoulder.

She hoped that the awkwardness would subside soon. She was in town indefinitely and if they were going to continue bumping into one another, it would be nice for him to carry on a conversation and not leave it up to his four year old sister.

—

Lily swung Luke's hand as they walked along the pier. It was late Sunday afternoon and they hadn't had any plans. Eager to get out of the house, Lucas had suggested a walk. The sun had already begun to set, the slight breeze ruffling her hair around her face. "So, ice cream?" Luke suggested, looking down to her expectant face.

Lily nodded and began pulling him in the direction of the ice cream kiosk. On their way there, however, Lily stopped shortly. Just as Lucas was about to question her, she pointed to Peyton standing a few feet away, leaning against the railing, her focus on the ships moving into the harbor.

He hefted Lily into his arms, ambling over to where Peyton stood. She made no move to accept his presence, just continued to stare. "I missed this," she said, not facing him. "Watching the ships come in."

He noted the tone of her voice—soft and remembering. She was thinking of her dad; it dawned on him quickly. He'd seen Larry Sawyer once since Peyton had moved to Los Angeles. He'd come to town to finalize the sale of their house after Peyton had chose to stay in L.A. They'd seen each other in passing, but no words had been exchanged. He'd still been dealing with the breakup and his mother's death back then. If any words would've been spoken, they wouldn't have been pretty, that was for sure. "Where is he these days?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Last I heard he was somewhere in the Gulf, south of Texas and Louisiana, I think." She turned her body toward him, leaning her hip against the rail. "I miss him."

Lucas opened his mouth to say something but Lily cut him off. She could only stay quiet for so long. And when she was in Peyton's presence she was incapable of remaining mum for long. "We're going to get ice cream!" she told Peyton, louder than was necessary.

"Mmm. Ice cream," Peyton said, her stomach rumbling in kind. She had snacked at the radio station, but peanuts and a Diet Coke weren't very fulfilling. And ice cream didn't sound half bad right now. "That sounds yummy."

"Wanna come?"

Her question surprised them both, but Lucas prodded, "Yeah, Peyton. Wanna come?"

Her eyebrow shot up, questioningly, but the candid smile he flashed her told her that she was welcome by both parties. Unable to stop herself, she agreed. "I'd love to."

—

Two hours later Lucas and Peyton sat across from one another, watching Lily run around the inside of the pizzeria. "She's so active. I don't know how you do it."

"I hardly ever sleep," he chuckled, leaning back against the seat, finally relaxing. He'd enjoyed the afternoon with Peyton. So much so that it had been him—not Lily surprisingly—that had asked her to join them for dinner. Neither he nor Lily gave her time to object, either.

They'd made it through one pizza before Lily had jumped out of her seat, spotting a few of her classmates across the room. She'd asked Luke's permission to go sit with her friends and now the girls were chasing each other around the makeshift dance floor. Why a pizzeria had a dance floor he had the slightest idea.

Lucas eyed Peyton as she watched Lily, the two sharing a moment as she stopped, grabbed her friend, Alyssa, close and whispered something in her ear, looking at Peyton as she did so. The two girls giggled, then went about their chase. Lucas shifted his gaze from Lily to Peyton, not liking that they'd been sitting in an extended silence since Lily had vacated the table. "She likes you, you know," he admitted, picking up his Coke, taking a sip.

"I like her, too." She watched Lily for a few moments before turning to him to say, "I know your rules, Luke. And if you want me to stay away, I will. Just say the word."

Lucas stared at her, ready to tell her that he thought that best. But he couldn't honestly say that _was_ best. His gaze shot to Lily who was running around. She liked Peyton. She hadn't told him in so many words, but everytime they saw Peyton she had to go talk to her. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but at least it gave him an excuse to talk to her, even if he didn't do as much talking as Lily did.

Finally, he shook his head. "No." He nearly gritted the word out. "I won't tell you stay away, Peyton. Lily likes you and if I want to be honest I like having you around. I like seeing you and talking to you." He paused for a moment longer than necessary. "I'm glad you're back."

Peyton felt her heart stand up and do the Macarena in her chest she was so pleased with those words. They weren't _I love you_, but they would suffice. For now. "Thank you, Lucas. That means… well, believe me you don't know what it means, but coming from you, it means more than you could know."

Lucas spied Lily with Tanya Abbott, one of her classmates and figured she was in good hands when Mrs. Abbott shuffled the girls—Alyssa included—to her table. He sat forward, his hand shooting out to cover Peyton's before he could stop it. "This is your home and you should've never had to stay away because of me."

"I didn't stay away because of you, Luke." He shot her a look. "Okay, I did, but not the way you're thinking. Well, not quite anyway. I stayed away because I was ashamed with myself, for leaving, for staying gone, for not bothering to come back and be with you after your mom's death. I know you can't forgive me that and I don't expect you to. I just need you to know that I am so sorry. I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do, but I will make it up to you—somehow."

He grinned at her, his fingertips trailing over the top of her hand as he looked up to meet her eyes. "You're here. I think that's a good start."

—

Peyton stood in the living room perusing Luke's CD collection. It had grown substantially since they had parted ways and he'd gained some new musical interests as well. Though why Lucas had a Shania Twain CD was something that she didn't bear to contemplate.

She heard the clicking of the bedroom door, followed moments later by Lucas rejoining her in the living room. "Success!" he cheered, throwing both arms above his head in victory. Her eyes darted after him, crossing the room with him to the sliding glass door that led onto the balcony. He made no move to step out, just stared into the night.

"She down for the count?"

He eyed her curiously. "I think so. It took her a while to wind down. I'm sorry that you were left to entertain yourself."

Peyton shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. Left to her own devices, she was able to snoop around the apartment. Though once she'd zoned in on the bookcase that housed Luke's music collection, any snooping that she'd wanted to do had been passed on. She pointed to the shelf. "What is this new sorting system you've got going on? I can't figure it out."

Chuckling, Lucas threw himself down onto the sofa. "You should be asking Lily about that, not me. She rearranges those things like every other day. I've since stopped trying to put them in some kind of order—it's useless."

Peyton smiled at that, returning to her perusal of his extensive and equally eclectic collection. "You have some questionable selections in here, Luke. I knew your tastes were questionable, but…" She slid one out, showing it to him. "Hannah Montana? Really Luke?"

"Lily likes it!" he admonished, blushing.

"Sure. _Lily_ likes it. If that's your story." The mutual laughter that rang out through the room helped to ease the overall tension that they were both feeling. Lucas took a deep breath to calm his nerves before he spoke. He had a lot to apologize and there was no better time to start than now. While they were alone. "I'm sorry about… before. That morning. I was…well, I was a dick. I shouldn't have—" His words blanched as Peyton turned to face him, her understanding eyes like a shot to the heart. How could she do that? Just accept everything. And why couldn't he? He pushed the notion aside. "I shouldn't have done a lot of things," he said finally. He sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "The truth is I've never brought another woman around Lily because there was no point. The only woman I wanted her to know was my wife." He paused, Peyton waiting for his point. "And I can't picture myself marrying anyone else but you."

Peyton wasn't sure what had prompted such honesty, but it made her heart stop and then quickly restart, her knees weakening making it damn near impossible to remain standing. "I-I-I need to sit down," she stammered, sliding into the rocking chair next to the bookcase.

Lucas ran to her. "You okay? You need some water?" he asked, concerned, dropping to a knee beside her. Maybe he should've reeled in his honesty. Perhaps it was too much, too soon.

She sat forward, covering his hand on her knee. "Just you, Luke. I just need you."

Her hand on his was calming, a realization that left him wanting more than he was ready for. "We have a long way to go, Peyton," he murmured.

Were her ears deceiving her? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? God, why was she questioning it? Of course he was! And she was not about to second guess it. This was what she came back for and she didn't care if it took five years, she would gladly wait that long. Because this was Lucas; she'd wait forever if she had to. "I know that."

"We can try to be like before."

"Lucas, we'll never be like before." He opened his mouth to protest, but she nodded to the lanky figure standing in the hallway staring at them, her doll clutched tightly to her chest.

Lucas spun around, knowing what he'd find when he did. "Lily! You're supposed to be asleep," he said, leaving Peyton's side to scoop Lily into his arms.

"That's okay. I was leaving anyway," Peyton told him, pushing out of the rocking chair. She'd had enough revelations for one night. It was time to go home and mull all this over.

Lucas whipped his head toward her as she scooped up her jacket and purse, insisting, "You don't have to."

"I need to. Otherwise we'll just…," she trailed off, her gaze shifting to his bedroom. Not that she'd mind that if it happened, but she didn't think she could take another morning like the last. Her heart couldn't stand being put out like that again.

"Right," he said with a nod of his head, understanding.

"I want to do this right this time, Luke. I want it to stick." Seeing Lily yawn, putting her head against Luke's shoulder, she said, "We'll talk tomorrow." And then just as quick, she was gone.

After Peyton left and Luke was tucking his sister back into bed, Lily surprised him by murmuring, "I like her."

A thousand emotions swarmed through him the most of all relief. He was relieved that Lily liked Peyton and, it seemed, vice versa. "I like her, too, kiddo. I like her, too," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he shut off the light and retired to his room. Alone.

—

Lucas spared a glance at Claudia who had been listening to the back and forth argument between he and Lily for the past fifteen minutes. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her that he was going to dinner with Skills and the rest of the guys, especially considering how much she idolized Skills and hadn't seen him since his return from the honeymoon. "But I wanna see Uncle Skills, too," Lily whined, her arms flapping wildly at her side. Lucas held out Miss Kay not surprised when she yanked it from him, holding her doll by her shoe, allowing Miss Kay's blonde hair to sweep across the floor.

Skills had been clamoring for a boys night since returning from his honeymoon. He wasn't that eager to part from his bride, but he missed his "boys" he had said they'd spoken that morning, their plans coming to fruition. "Claudia's taking you to Sarah's birthday party. Besides, it's just going to be us boys."

"I like boys."

Lucas shot a pleading look at Claudia even as she snickered. "Well. Yes, I know you do, but you cannot come. Sarah's expecting you at her birthday party. End. Of. Discussion."

He was pretty sure if looks could kill, he'd be sinking onto the linoleum right about now. Steam was practically shooting out of Lily's ears. He didn't tell her no often, but when he did the results were damning, at best. "You're such a doody head, Luke!" she shouted, stomping out of the kitchen and outside.

Beside him, Claudia let out a breathy sigh. "Thank you for riling her up. She's going to be such fun tonight," Claudia said sardonically, slipping her purse over her shoulder.

"She'll get over it," Lucas assured her.

"CLAUDIA! I'm READY to GO!" Lily yelled from outside, peeking her head through the door. She continued to glare daggers at Lucas and for once he welcomed the time apart..

"I'm coming, Lily," Claudia assured, making her way through the foyer and out the door.

Lucas waved to his sister. "Bye Lily. Have fun." Lily didn't answer him; she just stuck her tongue out at him and stomped away after Claudia.

—

"So, did ya hear that Peyton moved back?"

The dinner table silenced, gazes flickering to Lucas. Mid-bite Lucas dropped his fork, unable to eat with so many eyes focused on him. They were worse than women. So that's why Skills had harangued this get together. Not because he missed them all like he said, but because he was intent on going on a fishing expedition. Well, Lucas refused to take the bait.

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Lucas nodded his head. "I may have heard something about that, yeah," he lied. Explaining to his friends that he'd had quite a few run-ins with Peyton as well as dinner would only add more constraint to the situation. And it was already pushed to its limit.

Despite their penchant for acting like women, Lucas realized just how much he'd missed his friends. Conversation continued around them, but thankfully it centered around basketball and Skills island adventure with Bevin.

Skills was in mid-story when they became aware of the clicking of cameras, the lull of the crowd. "Nathan," they all said in unison. They were used to the attention that Nathan received. It was why they rarely went out in public. Nathan was constantly swarmed. But tonight they'd made an exception.

Twenty minutes later, Nathan joined them, slipping into the chair beside Lucas. "Man, I thought we told you to leave the entourage at home," Skills said, jutting his head to the two bodyguards sitting at the table behind them.

"Leave Curtis and J.T. alone."

"I'm just sayin'. I'm supposed to the star at the table. After all you didn't just survive a honeymoon in Hawaii with Bevin."

The boys laughed and settled into easy conversation once again, but Lucas remained quiet wondering if it had been such a good idea to keep from his friends what had been happening with Peyton.

As they prepared to eat dessert, his conscience got the better of him and he exclaimed, "I've been seeing Peyton." There was a chorus of "WHAT?" and he'd realized his mistake. "Not seeing her in that sense, but we've been spending time together."

Nathan said what everyone else was thinking. "And this is abiding by the Lucas Scott rule of thumb that no woman is to share Lily's company unless she's the woman that you intend to make your wife?"

Lucas shrugged. "It's complicated, okay? Besides, it's _Peyton_."

Grumbles followed and Lucas didn't miss any of it. They'd tried and failed for years to get him to work things out with Peyton and now that he was doing exactly that they still weren't happy. Well, he didn't care. This was his choice, his life and if they didn't like what he was doing, tough.

"Thanks for your support, guys, but I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Nathan's words came out icily. "You're just letting everything go. Just like that?" he asked with a snap of his fingers.

"I'm not letting anything go, Nathan. I said that we were spending time together. It's a friendly thing. Platonic. There's nothing happening here that any of you should be worried about, not that I need you to worry about me. I'm a big boy. I'm capable of tying my shoes, driving a car and hanging out with an ex-girlfriend without it turning into the scandal of the century. I've got it all under control."


	7. Under the Strain of a Losing Game

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

Notes: Seriously do not kill me for what unearths in this chapter. Please. It's imperative to the story, I swear. And I really hate that I keep lacking in my updates. Trying to write and maintain a Lucas/Peyton website is _not_ a walk in the park. But I love each and every one of you for your reviews and your support; the _when are you going to update_ PM's make me smile.

—

**06. Under the Strain of a Losing Game**

Lucas had nothing under control. _Nothing_. Especially his hormones.

Peyton had been a regular fixture in his life for nearly a month now and his defenses were quickly crumbling, the debris landing at his feet, hitting his toes much harder than if they were blows to his head.

The woman drove him crazy. She was forthright and uncompromising and sarcastic. In the four years that she'd been in Los Angeles, she'd grown, prospered. She was much so different from the Peyton he remembered. He liked this new agile, sexy Peyton even if she was making him feel sixteen all over again.

It was Saturday and Lily had invited Peyton to join them that afternoon at the pool. They'd met up with her earlier that morning at the store. He was buying groceries and Peyton was buying tampons. When Lily had inquired to the box that Peyton was holding he had quickly changed the subject to something as mediocre as the weather, making the mistake of mentioning their ritual Saturday afternoons poolside. Then Lily had taken it a step further and asked Peyton to join them and, like him, Peyton couldn't refrain from acquiescing.

So here he sat with his legs in the pool, watching Peyton in her barely there bikini doing everything to keep his libido in check. It wasn't lost on him that several of the other complex's occupants had taken notice of her. That old green monster slipped into his blood stream and grasped his heart in a vise. This was not helping to keep a handle on the situation at all. In fact this was blowing a lid off the situation and straightaway with his resolve.

"You okay, Luke?" Peyton swam up beside him, careful to keep a watchful eye on Lily who was splashing around in the shallow end with Mattie, the boy that lived in the apartment beneath Luke's. However, Luke seemed not to hear her. Or maybe he was ignoring her. "Luke?" she said again, touching his knee.

His eyes flicked to hers, confused. Then he smiled ruefully, registering her presence. "Oh, Peyton! I'm sorry, what? You were talking to me?"

She grinned up at him, then cast a glance over her shoulder toward Lily where Luke's gaze had drifted to. "You were looking a little green. Everything okay?"

He snorted, a most bizarre sound. "Oh, yeah. Great."

Her eyebrows shot up, but she just shrugged. "The water's warm. You should come in."

"I will. In a second." First he needed to find his control, curb his overwhelming desire to pounce her. He was already aroused, an unfortunate condition given their no touching policy— he needed to have his head reexamined for suggesting they keep things between them friends only, strictly platonic. He had already been on the edge of implosion before she'd touched his knee and now he was so hard, he ached. Being just friends with Peyton was going to kill him.

He caught sight of her as she climbed out of the pool, rearranging the bottom portion of her bikini where the water had suctioned it to her backside. He took a moment to savor her, all wet and sexy—_and off limits!_—before he threw himself into the pool, welcoming the cool water surrounding him. When he surfaced and caught her eye he figured that there were worse ways to go and being friends with Peyton Sawyer while fighting the overwhelming urges of his body was most definitely not one of them.

—

Peyton thought of nothing aside from her impending bathing ritual as she made her way home from work. She thought about sinking into the water bath water, scented with her lavender bath salts, lighting a few candles to wind down from her most pressing day at the radio station.

Of late, she'd been spending way too much time at Luke's, going to his house right after she got off work and not returning until close to midnight. They would eat dinner together and she'd help him ready Lily for bed and after the tot was down for the night they kick back on his sofa with a movie, or they'd talk. They'd talk about everything, the present, the future, but not the past—never the past. She wondered if they did that on purpose or maybe it just that they were both aware that the past held ghosts, secrets and betrayals. It was probably for the best that they didn't discuss it. Not at this juncture at any rate.

Pulling up in front of her apartment complex, Peyton made her way toward her apartment unprepared for the uninvited guest waiting on her stoop. They became aware of one another at the same instant, his dark eyes raking over her person in a most alarming way.

"Hey Sawyer," he finally greeted her, his eyes softening at once.

"Nathan, what are you doing here?" she demanded.

He was in faded jeans, a plain white shirt and a backwards hat, much different attire than what he'd worn the weekend of the wedding. He shrugged, the corners of his lips tilting up with a mischievous grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?"

"Not hardly," she breathed, moving past him. Peyton unlocked her door, ushered him inside. She flipped on lights, watching as Nathan took in her meager surroundings. It wasn't much to look at, but it was home. Her home. And that meant more to her than luxury or space.

He didn't have to say it. She knew why he was here. He was here on Luke's behalf. He didn't want her to hurt his brother or Lily and she commended him for his concern. She wondered how long it would take Haley and the rest of the guys to do the same. They'd each probably taking their turns paying her a visit, leaving days between to perfect their scowls, adjust their temperaments. She swallowed a groan just contemplating such a thing transpiring.

"How long have you been here? Back in Tree Hill?" Nathan asked, peering into a box that she had just started to sort through. It was some old mementos from high school. She was undecided as to what to do with them. Nathan pulled out a cheerleading trophy, blew off the dust, stared at it for merely a moment before replacing it in the box then returning to his perusal of her apartment.

"I'm sure that Lucas has told you—"

Nathan cut her off, widening his stance, crossing his arms. "I want you to tell me."

Nodding, Peyton dropped onto her sofa, sure that she was settling in for a very long conversation. If not that, a very long lecture. Oh, joy. "Almost two months."

Nathan digested that, taking seat on the arm of her sofa. She wanted to tell him not to do that, to take seat like a normal person, but she held her tongue. "Yeah, that's what Luke said. You know Haley and I used to talk to him daily. _Daily_, Peyton. And now that you've been back…well, we hardly to talk to him at all. Haley had to leave three messages the other day for him to call her. She's never had to do that before."

"I don't mean to monopolize his time, Nathan. I don't mean to keep him from you and Haley or anyone really," she started. But before she continue, Nathan smiled and the gesture threw her so off-balance that she forgot the rest of what she had intended to say.

Shaking his head, he said, "No, we don't mind. That's the point. We're glad—relieved, even—that Lucas has someone to occupy his time aside from Lily. And we're glad that it's you. We always knew that it would take you coming back to get him to drop that stupid rule of his." He paused. "He did tell you about that, didn't he?"

"He did."

"Well, anyway, it's always been you for him. I think we've all known that." He gave her a pointed look, making her blush and laugh. "Some of us are just slower at realizing it than others."

"You drove all the way from Charlotte to tell me that?"

Nathan shook his head. "Of course not. Luke's been so busy that he's missed some developments."

Peyton's eyes widened. "Oh, my God," she exclaimed, giddily. "Haley's pregnant."

A shocked looked came across Nathan's face, causing him to bolt to his feet. "No! At least… I don't think so." Nathan glowered down at her. "Why? Do you know something? Because she promised if she got pregnant again that I would be the first to know." He was already reaching into his pocket for his phone. "She _promised_!"

Peyton reached out to him, snatching away his phone. She ignored his protests, insisting, "She's not pregnant, Nathan. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just… I just assumed."

"Oh." Then a moment later, he said, "Don't do that!" Rubbing his chest, he sat down again, breathing deeply. "Damn, you'll give me an early heart attack, for sure."

Peyton handed him back his phone, patting his shoulder. "Take a breath. I'll get you a glass of water." As she made her way into the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, "So what were those developments you were talking about?"

"We're moving back," he said plaintively, turning towards Peyton as she made her way through the kitchen. "We'd been talking about it at length for months. She's grown closer to Bevin and she doesn't really have any female friends in Charlotte. And obviously she misses Luke—we all do. As the wedding neared she became more adamant about coming home, though. Especially once Bevin told her that she and Skills want kids right away. Then you came back and Brooke's coming back…and it just made sense for us to come back, too. With everyone else."

"Wow. That's…something."

"Yeah," Nathan agreed rather dismally. "But enough about me. You and Lucas—how's that going?"

"Real subtle, Nathan," she told him, returning with a glass of water.

Nathan shrugged, accepting the glass without a hint of candor. "It's always been you, Peyton. He's a dense one, but deep down he's always known that."

"Yeah, maybe," she agreed stoically, averse to discussing her relationship with Lucas with his brother. It seemed a betrayal somehow, though she and Nathan had discussed Lucas on occasion in the past.

"No maybes about it. Me, Haley. You, Lucas. It is what it is. That's how it's supposed to be. The universe'll right itself sooner or later."

Peyton shook her head. She didn't understand the Scott brothers for one second. "After everything that I've done, all the times I've pushed and pulled Lucas this way and that way how can you sit here and still cheer us on—me on."

"Because I love you, Peyton. You and Lucas… I don't know the two of you just make sense, a whole lot more sense than the two of us ever made, that's for sure." He gave her a questioning look. "You gonna stick it out this time, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere unless Lucas is with me, Nathan. I'm not leaving him ever again."

That seemed to satisfy Nathan, for he leaned back against the sofa and propped up his feet on her coffee table. Peyton watched the easiness with which he moved and propped his limbs upon her furniture, as if he'd done it a hundred times before. "You got anything to eat?" he asked. "I'm starved."

Nathan staying for dinner reminded her of another time, so very long ago. It almost seemed like someone else's life, now as she thought about it. Despite that they were both two very different people when they were together, Nathan was a staple in her life. She had missed him as well; she just hadn't realized how much until now. "Pizza?" she suggested.

"Pizza sounds good."

"I'll order it," she told as she stood up to retrieve the phone from the kitchen. "Try not to make yourself _too_ at home."

—

"Wow. This place hasn't changed much," Peyton said, lingering in the doorway to the office that had once belonged to Whitey. Lucas sat at the desk now, focused on the book strewn across his desktop. Lifting his head he regarded her with a smile. The more time that they spent together the more welcoming his smiles got, warming her heart in a way she never thought possible. "Though, the man behind the desk has."

"Why do I get the feeling you were going to say something else?" Lucas closed the playbook that he was mulling over, waving her in. She pushed away from the doorway, moving to take seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Her smile was faint. "I was going to, but it would've been inappropriate."

He ignored that. If he spared his thoughts any more Peyton time a mental health professional would be deeming him obsessed. Maybe he was in need of some straitjacket love. At least it would curb his impulse to touch her. Like now when he wanted to jump across his desk and run his fingers through her hair and—

_My God_. He _was_ sixteen all over again. Being a coach at his old stomping ground was playing tricks on his head. And having Peyton sitting in front of him was not helping. It was as if he was reliving high school. And he'd rather not do that—anything but that. But damn, she was something to look at. The mere sight of her set his body aflame.

He'd gone four years without sex and then one night with her had unlocked all of his pent up sexual needs. God help him he wanted her. Again and again and again. But somehow he figured that would ruin the easy rapport that they'd established and the friendship that they were trying to repair. He'd told her that he wanted to take things slow and if his libido would just get the message everything would be A-okay.

Lucas cleared his throat, forcing himself to concentrate on her face and not venture south of her neck. With any luck that would appease his overactive groin for a while—well, he could hope, couldn't he? "So, what brings you by these parts?" He linked his hands behind his head, reclining in his chair.

"Well...," she drawled, "I was hoping I could take you out to lunch."

Surprise swam through him. That was the last thing he'd expected. Though, to be honest, he hadn't known what to expect when he'd looked up to spy her in his doorway. He was glad for the distraction. Talking to her trumped going over plays any day, anytime, anywhere. "Wow. You know, it's not everyday I get asked out on a date." He was kind of… flattered.

"Oh no this isn't a date," she was quick to inform him.

He frowned, disappointed, the flattery from moments ago snatched away before he was able to fully revel. What, was he not date material? Regardless it was a pity. He was actually looking forward to being the girl on this date. Amused by the thought, he grinned. "It's not?"

Peyton shook her head, dark curls bouncing as she moved back toward the door. "Of course not. A date involves the boy asking the girl out. Not the other way around."

He closed the playbook, replacing it in his desk drawer. "Is that so?" he asked, fully aware of the sexual magnetism crackling between them. He stood up, moving across the room to where she stood by the door.

Peyton noted the way that Lucas was looking at her. She'd caught that look in his eye several times lately. It thrilled and excited and scared her all at the same time. Heady stuff. "It is," she conceded with a nod of her head. Reaching up, Peyton straightened the collar on his shirt as she said, "Besides, I prefer to be the _courted_, not the _courter_."

"Duly noted, Peyton." Lucas smirked, following her out of his office. "Duly noted, indeed," he murmured to himself.

—

"I'm actually surprised you said yes," Peyton told Lucas after the waiter had left with their orders, spreading her napkin out on her lap. Lucas had taken her to one of the eateries that had been built during her absence. It was along the Riverfront so they could see the ships moving on the water from their little window booth. He knew she would like it—and she did. She just hoped the food was as good as the company.

Lucas looked across the table at her, his eyes questioning. "Why wouldn't I?"

Peyton shrugged, not wanting to answer. His lingering gaze forced her to, however. "Well… it's just… lately, I mean… it just seems that you'd rather not be alone with me. I mean I could just be reading something into nothing but that's the way it feels."

Lucas leaned back, thrumming his fingers on the table. "So you caught that, huh?"

A perplexing look washed across Peyton's face as she opened her menu. "So I wasn't imagining things?" She thought it had just been paranoia, but now Lucas had admitted that he'd been avoiding alone time with her. But why? She wanted to know—had to know. Was she doing something wrong? Surely they could rectify this. Though, the only question that left her mouth was, "Why?"

"Why what? Why do I have a sudden aversion to being alone with you?" Peyton nodded her head. "The reason's simple really." She continued to look puzzled. "Oh, come on, Peyton. Surely you know." When Peyton continued to stare at him as if he'd sprouted breasts and a second head, Lucas sighed, admitting, "If we were alone I can't say that I couldn't promise to keep my hands to myself."

"Oh." The word came out breathless. Peyton reached for her iced tea, her mouth suddenly dry, her body warm. And neither had a flake to do with the weather.

"Precisely," Lucas said, reacting perversely to his confession as well. "I don't have much resistance where you're concerned, Peyton. I never have. And I just don't want to act too impulsively here." He swished his straw around his glass, cursing when his soda sloshed over the top, spilling onto the table. He wiped it up with one quick sweep of a napkin, looking contrite. "It's been hard—no pun intended, obviously—to avoid throwing myself at you. It's important that we tread lightly here. After all this just isn't about us."

Peyton hadn't forgotten about Lily, of how important she was to Lucas and/or the situation that they were in. "I would never do anything to purposefully hurt Lily," she told him, needing him to know that she was sincere, despite the many times she'd told him so.

"I know that." He reached across the table to take her hand in his. "I believe that you won't. Not on purpose." She started to protest, but snapped her mouth closed on second thought. Rubbing his fingertips across her knuckles, Lucas said, "We've skirted the issue, Peyton and I think that it's time that we talked about it. It's like a big cloud hanging over us and if we're going to go forward, we've got to get through it."

Confusion clouded her bright eyes. "I'm not following."

"The past four years, Peyton," he iterated. "It's time that we talk about what's been going on in our lives for the last few years. Our jobs, our love lives—hell, especially our love lives."

Peyton shifted uncomfortably in her seat. There were things that she needed to tell him, but, looking around, perhaps this wasn't the place to have that conversation. Not her side anyway. "Can I table mine for the time being?" Before he could object, she added, "It's just that there's some things that I need to tell you and I had hoped to do it in private."

Lucas wasn't too keen on that idea, but he agreed. So, he told his story, most of which she already knew. His mom had died, leaving him to care for Lily. He'd had the occasional date, just to appease Nathan and Haley, but they never went anywhere. He was always waiting for…something, someone. Her. He'd been waiting for her to come back. Despite how much it had hurt when things had soured between them, that she hadn't returned for his mother's funeral, he had wanted her. He would want her until his last dying breath. It was a sobering thought.

When their food arrived the wheels were turning in his head, scenarios playing and replaying as to what this dire information could be. Because it was dire. She wanted to tell him in private where he couldn't make a scene—and she was scared that he would. Fear gripped him by the neck and yet he pasted a smile on his face and managed to salvage their lunch even though he wondered if their new slate would be erupted by whatever it was that she had to tell him.

—

Lucas didn't see Peyton for three days after their lunch. They talked on the phone, they emailed one another, but he didn't see her. He wasn't sure if she was busy—which she attested to—or she was ignoring him purposefully. There'd been a moment of awkwardness after he'd told her that he wanted her, followed by the cloud of uncertainty that had ensconced them after he'd suggested that it was time they fully disclose what had gone on in their lives during the four years they'd spent apart. It wasn't like he had suggested a massacre; only a conversation. She had something to hide, and he'd been left to wonder what it was.

He had no idea where this thing with them was going if, in fact, it was going anywhere at all. One thing was for sure, though. They wouldn't make much progress if she didn't trust him enough to tell him what had happened in Los Angeles. How bad could it possibly be? Did she have such little faith him that he couldn't take it? That he couldn't—wouldn't—understand?

Not once since she'd returned had she alluded to her life there. If she was happy or sad, loved it or hated it. Sure, he hadn't asked, hadn't really wanted to know. Some things were better left unsaid. Still, even if she'd spent the last four years in a committed relationship with some L.A. hotshot actor he wouldn't have cared—he just wanted to know. Even if he wasn't her boyfriend, he was her friend and as a friend he wanted to be privy to those years of her life. He longed for her to confide in him as she had once upon a time.

He sat in the living room staring at the television, toying with the idea of turning it on to actually watch it. Lily was at a sleepover and he hadn't felt like doing much beside what had had been doing—mulling. He thought about calling Peyton; he got as far as dialing, too. In the end he clicked off, not wanting to pressure her. She would tell him when she was good and ready, he just had to be patient. Unfortunately, patience was one virtue he lacked.

Frustrated, he went into his room to grab his basketball. There was no easier way to get rid of tension than to shoot some hoops. Well. There was another way, but… that wasn't happening anytime soon. Unfortunate, that.

He grabbed his keys off the table, but when he opened his door, he found Peyton standing there, her hand poised to knock. Quickly her hand fell away as she pasted a fake smile on her face, exclaiming, "Oh. Hi!" Then, noting the basketball tucked under his arm, her forehead wrinkled and, it seemed, her body relaxed, releasing a tension he hadn't noticed until just then. "You're leaving?"

"I was just gonna head out to the Rivercourt." He stepped aside, waving her in.

Peyton breezed past Lucas, but stopped in the foyer, spinning around to face him. "Really, Luke, if you had plans, don't bow out on my account. I can just—" She made a move for the door, but Lucas blocked her, taking her elbow to prevent her from trying to leave.

"No. Basketball can wait." He let the ball slip from beneath his arm, the sound of it bouncing across the floor heavy in the silence. Dropping his hand, Lucas pushed the door closed, spun the lock. Just in case. He moved around her into the kitchen calling over his shoulder, "Want something to drink?"

"Yes. No. Yes." Her indecision was a clear sign of her nervousness. Peyton paused, biting into her lower lip. "What do you have?" she finally asked. _Get a grip, girl_, she chided herself.

"A little of this, a little of that," he said, shooting her a wink and a smile over his shoulder. Pulling open the refrigerator, he noted the contents, rattling off, "Milk, orange juice, water, beer—"

"Beer's good," Peyton interjected quickly.

Lucas returned to her side a moment later handing her a beer, keeping one for himself. As he took a long gulp he regarded her with avid curiosity. She wondered what he found so compelling. Then he said, "I haven't seen you in a few days."

"I've been—" she started.

"Busy. Yeah I know. So you've said." He rubbed his eyes, turning to walk away. "I'm trying to not take this personal, Peyton," he began, facing her once more. "But it's kind of hard, especially with you being so aloof right now." He watched her closely, the way her eyes refused to meet his, how her fingers gripped the bottle in her hand so tightly her knuckles had whitened.

He had her there. So maybe she was being aloof; after all she'd come here with an agenda, but then again Lucas had opened the door before she was able to gather her bearings. She was allowed to be a tad off-kilter.

She'd known for days that they needed to talk, needed to have that blasted conversation that Lucas had suggested during their lunch date. But she'd put it off. She hadn't done it purposefully, well…not really, anyway. She'd needed a few days to get her head together, to sort out what she was going to say, how she was to explain. That was all.

As easy Lucas was to talk to, there were some things that she was uncomfortable sharing with him. Certain events that had transpired her years in Los Angeles being one of those things.

"I'm sorry, Lucas," she apologized, setting her bottle down on the kitchen table. Circling the rectangular table, putting it between them, she said, "I've been ignoring you, I admit it."

Lucas set his bottle beside hers, bracing his palms on the table. He bent his head for a second, willing himself to stay calm. Damn it they weren't even dating and already she was erecting those walls that she was so famous for. Lifting his head, he leaned toward her, scowling. It was a gesture meant to intimidate her and it did its job. She stepped back, turning her back to him.

From behind her, Peyton heard Lucas expel a sigh, then curse. She was aware of him moving, but she didn't dare turn around to see where he was. A chair scratched the floor and she wasn't sure whether it moved because he'd pulled it out intending to sit, or he'd kicked it in frustration. She wished he would just say something.

After several moments of grueling silence, he finally spoke. "You gonna tell me why you've been doing that? We've been doing good the last few weeks, Peyton. I thought we were making progress."

"We are, Lucas!" she exclaimed, at once turning to face him. "But this isn't about you—it has nothing at all to do with you—it's about me."

Swiftly he circled the table, seizing her by the shoulders. Staring down at her, he begged, "Then tell me, Peyton—tell me why you're pulling away. If there's something wrong, I can help. You just have to trust me."

With his naked plea, Peyton wanted to crumple into tears. But she couldn't do that. Not right now. She'd come here to tell him, to spill all of her dirty little secrets, but now that he was standing before her, bearing down with her with such distrust and apprehension in his eyes, she wondered if she was strong enough to tell him about L.A., about everything that had happened. She wasn't sure that she could handle him pushing her away again. Then the words slipped out of her mouth and she immediately longed to call them back: "I was pregnant."

Panic seized him at once. His breathing became ragged, his heart hammering like a staccato in his chest. Surely she didn't mean…? Had that been why she'd returned? Because their lone night together had produced a child? He was grateful to her for doing so, but why hadn't she said so before now? Or maybe… or maybe she'd just found out? It would certainly explain Peyton's odd behavior of late. Then his overworked brain took a breath and her words registered: _I was pregnant._ Was. Past tense.

Quickly Lucas's grip on her shoulders loosened, and he took a step back. Peyton was grateful for the space, finally able to expel the breath that she had unconsciously been suppressing. "You wanted to know about my life in L.A., right?" Mutely, he nodded. "Well, there it is."

She wasn't pregnant _now_, but she'd been pregnant at one point. In the past. But when? The question was on the tip of his tongue, but Lucas did not voice it aloud. For long moments silence reigned, Lucas unable to say anything, Peyton too scared to broach conversation for fear of what he might say. Unable to take the silence any longer, Lucas spoke. "Was it—I mean, it wasn't…?" he trailed off, knowing that she'd understand what he was trying to ask. God knows he couldn't bear to utter the words himself.

Peyton shook her head. "No," she whispered, her voice not her own. Clearing her throat, she tried again, relieved when she was able to speak at a normal decibel. "It wasn't yours. I wouldn't have done that to you." A baby with Lucas would've given her so much joy. She had wished and hoped that it had been his, but the timing had been all wrong; she and Lucas hadn't been together in months. "Not that I didn't wish and hope that it had been yours." A wisp of a smile crossed her lips. "It wasn't so."

Lucas tried to find relief in that, but he just couldn't. Peyton had been pregnant with another man's child. He didn't know how he felt about that. He knew he had no right to care either way. They were broken up. But still. It should've been _his_ child—their child. He couldn't help the flood of anger and resentment that coursed through him in that moment.

"Who, um…," he began, but stopped himself. Did he really want to know who the hell was responsible for getting her with child? Curiosity was besting him, yes, but did he really care for her answer? It may make his brain implode to hear it was just some nameless, faceless one night stand. Then again if Peyton and this guy had been serious, that could probably do more harm than good. As if he had a right to an emotion either way. They were broken up, leading separate lives. She was free to date, sleep with or marry whoever she chose. He didn't have to like it, but he had to accept it. Yet the questions still ran rampant through his head: Where was this guy now? Had he abandoned her when he'd found out that she was pregnant? Had Peyton even told him? God, the questions. His head hurt, he needed to sit down. Or have a drink. He swiped his beer off the table and took a long swallow.

Peyton began moving as she spoke, circling him, focused she was on her story. "His name was Brian. Our paths had crossed numerous times over the years, but we'd never really introduced ourselves. He worked for another record company and we'd met at this party for this musician that my label had just signed. His company had been trying to woo her away, to no avail."

She didn't smile with the recollection, Lucas noted. "So what happened? Where's he now?" he was propelled to ask.

"Don't know," Peyton answered with a shrug. "I was looking for something with Brian, hoping that he'd fill the void in my life, in my heart, left behind when you and I ended things. But he wasn't you. After so many dates I think he realized that."

Peyton resumed walking, making her way through the living room to the sliding door that led onto the balcony. Pulling the door open she breathed the cool night air into her lungs, taking a small reprieve from her trip down memory lane. Leaning against the door she looked out into the night, at the neighborhoods that surrounded the apartment complex thinking of the husbands and wives putting their children to bed, the bachelors and bachelorettes contented with their single lives, the loves lost, the loves still yet unfound. Finally, her gaze slid back to Lucas who stood a mere foot away, looking at her, waiting with his next breath for the next portion of her story.

"We talked about you, you know. Well." She paused. "More like fought about you." A bewildered expression washed across Luke's face. "I kept a picture of us on my nightstand. Even after… I could never bear to push it into a drawer. It stayed there on my nightstand so that we were the last thing I saw before I went to sleep every night and the first thing I saw every morning when I woke." Peyton shivered, unsure if it was due to that concession or the chill in the air. A bit of both, she guessed. "Once after we'd been together…he asked me about it. I didn't lie. I told him that you were the one that got away—the one I pushed away. I think that he couldn't compete, with you—with us—anymore so he just…left." Peyton shrugged her shoulders, breathing deeply to ward off the tears threatening to spill over. "I don't blame him. Can't, really. I'm a train wreck."

Lucas stepped forward, pulled her inside and toward him. Turning her so that they were face to face, he lifted her chin with his index finger, making her look at him. "You are not a train wreck. Maybe a little high maintenance—" Peyton summoned a wan smile. "—but definitely not a train wreck."

A renegade tear made its way down Peyton's cheek then. Before she could lift her hand to wipe it away, Lucas swiped it with the pad of his thumb, slowly, methodically, the touch turning into a bittersweet caress. Quickly, she moved out of his arms not content with his tender touch, his loving words amidst her damnable confessions. "When I lost it… when I lost the baby… I thought it was a punishment… a punishment for not allowing us to be, for constantly running away, for pushing you away time after time after time."

Sensing that she needed her space, Lucas watched as she moved across the room. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her, but something told him that his advances would be unappreciated. Instead he concentrated on her and the story that she felt that she had to share with him.

"The day I found out I called you. Do you remember that?" Her fingers had dialed his number before she could stop herself. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say to him, it had been so long since they had spoken, but she had to hear his voice. In the end he hadn't been home, but she'd heard his voice on his answering machine; that had been enough—plenty, in fact.

Lucas knew the day that she was talking about. He had just refused yet another of Haley's single college friends. He wasn't ready to date; he had Lily to think about, to care for. Plus he was still mending his broken heart. She had called him, but he hadn't been home. When he returned home to her blustery message he had debated returning her call. Something in her voice told him that she needed him, but in the end he just deleted the missive and went about his life as if she had never reached out to him. "It was too soon. I just… I-I c-couldn't," he faltered in his explanation.

"I shouldn't have done it. I knew after I called that it was wrong. I had no right… but Lucas there was no one I wanted to talk to more than you. I was pregnant with someone else's child but yet you were the only one that I wanted to share the news with. When I heard your voice on the answering machine I couldn't tell you. I couldn't be that cruel. Not after all the plans that we had made together, the hopes that we'd had for a future together. So I made some lame excuse for calling and then I hung up. Afterwards, when you didn't call back, I walked around the city and let it sink in." She looked at him, then, met his eyes straight on. "I wanted it, Lucas. I did. It wasn't planned and, yes, I freaked out at first, willed the test to be negative, but… it was a baby. I was going to track down Brian and tell him, then… th-then… before I could…" her voice caught, and he knew the moment that she surrendered to the tears that she'd been battling away. "Then it was gone," she finished with a barely audible whisper.

At that moment Lucas lost Peyton. If he'd had any questions, she was unable to answer them for she crumpled onto the floor, sobs wracking her slender frame, sobs that he deduced she hadn't shed since she'd suffered the miscarriage or whatever had happened—she hadn't been clear on that point.

He fell to the floor beside her at once, pulling her into his arms despite her refusal. He remained steadfast against the flay of her hands, the sting of her fingernails digging into his arms. He didn't leave her, but simply held her while she cried in his arms over the mistakes that she'd made, the baby that she'd loved and lost and perhaps the relationship that she'd always viewed as doomed to fail. He held her while her heart broke and his broke for her. _For them._


	8. A Brand New Chapter With Torn Up Pages

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

Notes: I fail so much at updates. Also do be warned that this chapter is heavily rated R, bordering on NC-17.

—

**07. A Brand New Chapter With Torn Up Pages **

Peyton drifted into wakefulness, not yet ready to leave her dreaming state. The last vestiges of her dream—a most enchanting one, though she couldn't remember the details—faded away as her eyes opened to the room brightened by the sun. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that she was in a bed that wasn't hers, in clothes that weren't hers either, feeling quite unlike herself. Sitting up she looked around, groaning as she recognized her surroundings. Luke's bedroom.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she took a moment to gather her composure, then she went in search of Lucas, hoping that she didn't encounter the tiny tot instead. She found him in the kitchen standing at the sink. He was naked from the waist up, his long form perched over the sink, staring out the kitchen window, deep in thought. She watched him for a few moments, studying the movement of his back muscles when he stretched and sighed. Obviously there was something on his mind.

She regarded him contemplatively, standing there silently lost awhirl her thoughts as he remained negligent to her awakened state. The night before he had taken everything she'd divulged to him in stride, no questions asked, no judgments. It was more than she'd hoped for. She'd been prepared for anger or resentment. But nothing. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or concerned. Wouldn't a man in love be seething with jealousy? Or was she hoping for more than she should? Perhaps she shouldn't hope at all. It wasn't as if he'd told her that he loved her, was _in _love with her.

As if sensing her presence, Lucas turned around at once, setting aside his coffee as he saw her lingering. "You're awake," he said, the observation accompanied with a welcoming smile.

Peyton fidgeted, uneasy with her state of undress. She was wearing a ratty old Tree Hill High basketball tee that smelled solely of Lucas and barely reached the tops of her thighs. To say that she felt intimate, especially with him standing across the room from her completely ill at ease with his prowess, would be the understatement of the year. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't think… I mean, that is to say… you didn't have to take care of me."

Lucas crossed the room toward her. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, murmuring, "I didn't mind taking care of you. I _don't_ mind." He flashed her a wry smile. Lifting her hand, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles. She felt it down in her toes. Her nipples peaked and saluted him, making her skin feel twitchy against the soft cotton of Luke's shirt. "One of these days you're going to have to get it through that pretty little head of yours that you are by no means a millstone about my neck." He winked at her, turned around and called over his shoulder, "Coffee?"

Well, he was acting very weird this morning. Had they really…? God. And after she'd been crying for who knows how long. She must've look a fright. Hopefully the lights had been off, for she couldn't remember a thing aside from spilling all her secrets and sobbing in his arms. When she realized that she hadn't answered him and he was staring at her expectantly, she all but yelled, "Yes, please. Coffee sounds great."

Peyton followed Lucas in the direction of the coffee pot, leaning against the counter to watch him prepare a fresh cup for each of them. "So just to be clear—we didn't… did we?" She gestured to the basketball tee that she was wearing. She'd been preoccupied when she'd left her apartment the evening before but she was pretty sure she'd put on pants. Shoes. A bra. And that she didn't own a basketball tee. Or any sports paraphernalia, really. "Because I don't remember having this on last night when I came here. Not that I'd mind if we did, but…I'd like to remember it." As an afterthought, she added, "I don't."

Chuckling, Lucas handed her the coffee. "Though it was tempting to seduce you with your nose all puffy and your eyes red and swollen… I somehow managed to resist the temptation to ravish you." With his hand, he gestured to the living room where formerly used blankets were folded neatly on one side of the sofa. Remnants of his night spent on the pullout.

Nodding, Peyton took a sip of her coffee, leading the way into the living room. She plopped onto the sofa, though Lucas did not follow. He stayed back, propping his shoulder up against the wall. As she settled against the plush cushions she wondered if that distance was purposeful. She couldn't help it—old habits were hard to break.

Sipping at her coffee she noted that he made no move to put on a shirt. Were they at that stage in their relationship already? Comfortable with partial nudity? Not that she had any objections to Lucas walking around in her periphery half-naked. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure. Simply put, it was distracting.

"About last night…," she began, staring into the dark liquid of her coffee. It seemed easier not to meet Luke's gaze.

Lucas stared straight ahead, expelling a deep sigh. "I knew that was coming." Pinning her with a dark look, he told her, "Despite what you told me, it changes nothing, Peyton. My feelings for you—where I want this to go­ remain the same. Unless…" He paused. "Did you tell me all of that in an effort to push me away?"

She recoiled that the thought had even entered his head. "No! Of course not. I just wanted to be honest with you, Luke." Though she couldn't blame him for jumping to such a conclusion. Once upon a time she may have done such a thing.

Lucas scratched at his chin, the two day stubble beginning to irritate him. He should've shaved this morning, but he was scared that he'd come out of the bathroom and find Peyton gone. "You never dealt with it, did you?"

Peyton shook her head, diverting her gaze away from him. She wished he had opened the blinds so that she could look outside, but alas that wasn't so. Instead of looking at him, she stared at the bookshelf that housed his CDs. "I was just so numb, Lucas. I couldn't believe it. I had just begun to accept that my life was going to change and then…" She sighed, eyes beginning to moisten. "And then it didn't."

Lucas stalked across the room toward her, dropping beside her. Setting his coffee on the end table, he pulled her into the circle of his arms. "Hey, there was plenty of that last night." He leaned back to meet her eyes, thumbs sweeping the moisture from her eyes. "No more tears, okay? Promise me."

Eyes still watery, Peyton nodded, taking a deep, calming breath. "I promise."

"You're home now. We'll get through this. Together."

_Together_. The word began a lullaby in her head, echoing through the dark recesses of her mind that had come to the conclusion that Lucas couldn't help her, that he wouldn't be able to. But now that he was giving her what she'd always deemed unattainable, Peyton realized that she didn't want it. She still wanted him, more than her next breath, but she didn't want him to help her through this ordeal. It wasn't his place and she'd be damned if she'd allow it. She was a fool for telling him at all. But honesty in a relationship was important to her and if they were ever to go down that road again, knowing that she had kept something so important from him would choke her with guilt.

Glancing at the wall clock, she said, "I should get going. I have to be at work soon." She pushed to her feet, handing her coffee mug to Lucas. She started off toward the bedroom without another word. At the doorway Luke's voice stopped her, but she didn't turn to face him. She couldn't.

"Don't pull away from me, Peyton. I want to help you through this. Let me help you. Let me be your friend."

_Let me be your friend. _Peyton didn't know what to say to that. She only knew that she didn't want Lucas to be her friend, it was too painful. Not only that… it wasn't enough. Not anymore. So instead of saying something she didn't mean, she said nothing at all. She closed the door, changed out of his clothes into her own, then left as quickly as she was able. And when she got home, she broke down and cried, fearing that no matter what she did she would never be accepted back into Lucas's heart. Not in the way that she wanted.

—

"Peyton, you can't ignore him," Brooke chastised her over the phone. For the past week she'd cocooned herself in her apartment, not ready to face Lucas. He'd called, emailed her, but she just couldn't face him. Knowing that they were going nowhere, that they couldn't possibly, was good a reason as any to blatantly ignore him. Though, she hated herself for it.

"I'm not ignoring him, Brooke. I'm just…thinking things through. That's all. There's no harm in that, is there?"

"That's all?" Brooke roared, static crackling the speakerphone. Peyton cringed. Her eardrum would've shot had the phone been pressed to her ear. "Peyton Sawyer, you love Lucas and you're intentionally pushing him away. For what? Some misguided notion that you've hit a dead end?"

Peyton huffed, continuing to reorganize her albums. They were going to go back in the same order, she knew, but for the moment it was keeping her occupied and her thoughts off of Lucas. Well…it had been until Brooke had called. Brooke didn't understand. At the very least, Peyton thought that she simply just…couldn't. "Well, we have! At least I'm strong enough to admit it."

"You're accepting defeat. The Peyton that I know wouldn't give up on Lucas. Then again, maybe…"

Oh, she was doing that thing that she did. Trailing off, not finishing her thoughts to piss Peyton off. And it was working! "What, Brooke? Maybe… Finish your goddamn sentence."

"Maybe you just don't love him like you keep saying you do."

Of all the… Oh, she was good. Brooke knew just what nerve to hit. That was the one. "You know I love him."

"Of course I know that. You know it, too which is why none of this makes sense. Do you know what my first thought was when Lucas called me? That you were doing it again. That you hadn't learned your lesson. I want you to be happy, Peyton. And as much as it pains me to say so, you're the happiness with Lucas. You went home for him. So stop pushing him away."

Peyton stretched out on her back on the floor beside the phone. "It's just not simple anymore, Brooke. I love him. It should be that simple. I know that. He desires me. I know that, too. But does he love me? Then there's the miscarriage. And Lily."

"Now you're just making excuses," Brooke said, annoyed. "He desires you. Work with that. Seduce him."

She should've been surprised, but this was Brooke, after all. "Seduce him? How is that worthwhile advice?" As if it was that easy, anyway. She was good at succumbing, not seducing. She'd tried seducing Lucas once, back in high school. It hadn't gone as she'd hoped and she'd never attempted to do it again. She'd scraped a knee, nearly given him a black eye, bit him in places that weren't supposed to be bitten—no, never again. She wanted sex, but she wasn't that desperate to go asking for it.

"You need to be sexed up," Brooke continued, ignorant to Peyton's inner distress.

Peyton couldn't refute that fact. She did need…well, she needed. Period. But she wasn't about to confirm that to her best friend. Besides, sex did not solve problems. It helped to evade them for a little longer, that was all. "I do not need to be sexed up, as you so aptly put it."

Brooke didn't back down. Not that Peyton expected her to. "Denying it makes it all the more obvious. Should I put a bug in Lucas's ear for _him _to seduce _you_?"

Peyton could tell that Brooke was giddy simply by the prospect. "No! Brooke, don't you dare. I'm just confused right now. Everything will be fine in a few days."

"Once you've had sufficient time to build a brick wall around yourself, around your heart, to keep Lucas out?"

Peyton groaned, hating that Brooke could see through her, even from four states away. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

"What good would that do you? Peyton, honey, I love you, but enough's enough. You've got to stop hiding what you're feeling. Luke's pretty strong. He can take whatever you throw at him. You said he took the whole Brian thing fairly well." Brooke took Peyton's silence as confirmation to forge ahead. "So I guess I don't understand what the problem is."

Peyton stared at the phone blankly for a few minutes before finally admitting, "You and me both."

"You should come to New York," Brooke suggested. On a whim, Peyton supposed. "For a few days, at most. We could hang out, go shopping. It'll take your mind off of Lucas and the mess you're making of things." Before Peyton could respond, Brooke added, "Just think it over, okay? Call me in a few days and let me know. But I'm warning you—if you don't come here, I'm going there. I'll get you sexed up one way or the other."

Then, she hung up.

—

Lucas gave Peyton a week. A week to deal with her issues, or run if that was her intention. It was against his better judgment, but seven days turned out to be much too long without hearing her voice, seeing her, touching her. He was aching—and he hated it. Hated that he was that vulnerable for her again. Despite that fact, here he was, standing on her doorstep, butterflies fluttering about his stomach at the mere thought of seeing her. Like he was in high school just vying for her to look in his direction.

Standing on her doorstep he toyed with the notion of just turning around and venturing home. He missed her, he was concerned about her, but he didn't know what he'd do if she just turned him away. That didn't bear contemplation so he sucked in his breath and rapped his knuckles on the door.

He heard her call out, "Just a minute," then seconds later she filled the door.

She looked radiant. Beautiful. Her hung in loose curls about her shoulders and she was wearing a tank top and a flowing skirt. Her skin was aglow and there were no signs that she had spent the previous days succumbed to tears and remorse. Ignoring him was a conscious choice, then.

"Lucas," she rasped, unsurprised. Apparently he'd been expected. Brooke, he figured.

"Hey. Hi." Well, that sounded smart. _Maybe you should say howdy, too_, his conscience smirked. "I didn't know if I should come… but I couldn't stay away."

Peyton pushed the door open wide. "Come in."

Lucas breezed past her into her apartment, not turning around to face her until he heard the door close. They started speaking at the same time, saying each other's names. "You go first," he said with a wave of his hand.

"I'm sorry I haven't called or stopped by. I've missed Lily dreadfully but just couldn't summon the energy—the courage—to go over."

_I've missed Lily dreadfully… _He'd spent day after day wanting nothing more than to merely hear her blasted voice and she'd been missing his sister? Well, it was good to know where one stood, he mused.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked, gesturing toward the kitchen. Anything to escape that scowl that Lucas was shooting her.

He thanked her for the offer, but shook his head, curbing the impulse to spin around and storm out the door like a belligerent five year old whose favorite toy was being withheld. Besides, it wasn't like she welcomed his company; she'd rather be visited by his four year old sister. He ground his teeth in frustration, wanted to kick himself for being jealous. Of his own sister. "No. I won't be here long."

Peyton recognized the edge to his voice. This was not going to be pleasant. "Look, Lucas—"

"No," he cut her off, already peevish. "I don't want an explanation, Peyton. Because I've no doubt that it will only be an excuse, some lame brained attempt for you to push me away. Just like you always do. I can't say I haven't expected it. I had hoped that it wouldn't come to this, that you wouldn't freak out because things were going somewhere. Some things never change, right?" he said with a scoff, turning around to glare out the window.

"Now wait a minute, Lucas, that's not fair," she objected. But, really, what did she expect? For him to open his arms to her after she'd ignored every phone call and email since that night at his house? For him not to be suspicious of her actions?

He spun around toward her. "Isn't it?" he shot back, unable to leash his anger, his resentment. "It's always about you, Peyton. Every damn thing. I told you that I couldn't take a chance with Lily. That I wouldn't risk her getting close to you, only for you to hurt her. But I shouldn't have worried about that, about you hurting her. I should've worried about _you _hurting _me_. You're the only one that has the ability to do that. I'm strong, I've gotten through a hell out a lot, but you… you're something I can't get through, get over, get around. And I hate it. I hate that you're so engrained in my life, into who I am that I just can't be rid of you. Oh, how I'd love that. My existence would be more peaceful and less stressful, that is for sure." He rubbed his chest, as if trying to rub her out of his heart. If only it could be that easy.

Peyton stared off into space, hearing him, but refusing to look at him. If she looked at him there was no doubt that the tears stinging her eyes would fall like rain. So she didn't look at him. For a while she had no words to respond, couldn't fathom why she would even bother. Then, ignoring his words completely, she finally mustered, "I didn't want you to accept it."

Lucas, not understanding where that statement had come from, spat, _"What?"_

"I didn't want you to accept it—the pregnancy, the miscarriage. All of it. Any of it. I wanted you to be angry, upset even. The last thing I wanted was your gracious acceptance," she said, staring blankly at the bookshelves housing her albums. "I didn't tell you about my miscarriage so that you could be my white knight and make it all better. I told you because I didn't want there to be any secrets between us. I love you enough to be completely honest."

Lucas stared at her, dumbfound. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what he could possibly say to such an asinine confession. Tell her the truth? The questions that had scurried through his head? Tell her about the white hot anger that had passed through him upon her concession that another man had gotten her pregnant? That it turned his stomach to know that she had even been with anyone else? He couldn't possibly tell her any of those things. Then, he did anyway.

"We were broken up, Peyton. I had no right to be angry about… what happened. I was moving on and you were…" He swallowed. "And you had also. I would be such an ass if I told you that I was angry that you'd been with someone else, anyone else. But, yes, for your information, I was angry, whether I had a right to be or not. But I didn't tell you that; I didn't want you to think less of me. I wanted to be above it all because you needed me to be above it all." He raked a hand through his hair, took a deep breath to get a handle on his emotions. "Dammit, I'm not above it and I haven't accepted it." He stabbed a finger at her, at her belly. "That baby could've been ours, Peyton if you hadn't gone off to Los Angeles… if you hadn't stayed there. You want me to say that it kills me that you've been with someone else? Then, yes, it does."

He stalked across the room toward her, not stopping until he was standing directly in front of her. It had been two months since he'd touched her, felt her quivering beneath his hands, her body quaking beneath his. He _ached _for her. Her touch, her kiss. And even though he had more to say, his mind suddenly took a detour. He had to have her and he had to have her _now_.

Peyton realized his intent the moment his hand touched her stomach and he pushed her backwards until her back hit the wall. It was there in his eyes. Passion, fire. There was a question on her lips, to ask if Brooke had put him up to this, but then his lips were on hers.

He groaned. She let out a whimper. It was all she could do; she was not compelled to fight him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, maybe more. They'd denied their attraction, their sexual desires, for weeks, both of them denying long buried needs in exchange for rebuilding their tattered friendship. Idiots, the both of them. How had they denied themselves _this_?

Lust clouding his vision, Lucas pushed at her tank top, thanking whatever Gods were smiling down upon him that Peyton hadn't donned a bra that morning. Pushing the scrap of fabric up to bare her breasts to his eyes, he dipped his head to flick his tongue across a nipple. As she arched toward him, clearly wanting more, his hand slid across her thigh, slipping beneath her skirt. Grabbing her legs, he pulled her up, enjoying the friction as she rubbed against him in all the right places.

Peyton scissored her legs around Lucas, pulling him closer, needing him closer. He ground against her, needing her to feel how much he wanted her.

"I-I can't wait, Luke," she said breathlessly. "Now. It has to be now."

Within moments he was inside her, thrusting into her and it was…bliss. There was no other word for it. Sure the coupling was fast and not a whit romantic. For goodness sake they still had their clothes on. But when it was over, after their breathing slowed and their bodies recovered, they tumbled to the floor and started anew. Slowly. And completely naked.

An hour—maybe two—later they were spent, basking in the afternoon's delights on the living room floor. Laying with Peyton in his arms, her head on his chest, Lucas indulged in the silence, fingers caressing her back. They'd spent the entire afternoon making love and he was remarkably, undoubtedly, sated. But now that the passion had been squelched he was left to ponder their actions. Wonder if what they'd done meant the same for her as it had for him. Where this left them, if anywhere.

Lacking finesse, he blurted, "This was all wrong." Beside him he felt Peyton stiffen, signaling that his words hadn't been the right ones. He tightened his hold, dropping a kiss atop her head. "No, no. Not this—_us_. We seem to never have a handle on our relationship. We never do things as we should, in a certain order like everyone else."

"Like Nathan and Haley, you mean?"

"Like them. Like Skills and Bevin. They dated. They married. I've never… we've never… not officially…" He sighed in frustration. "It hasn't been proper."

Peyton couldn't tamp down the bubble of laughter that erupted from her throat. "Lucas, we're not living in the 50's."

Lucas turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. "I know that. I just wanted to do things differently this time."

"For Lily's sake," Peyton offered.

"For her. For us, too," he corrected. "We've made mistakes, Peyton. Neither one of us can deny that. We're older now. Not necessarily wiser, but older. We know what we want, what we don't want."

Peyton felt the conversation taking a drastic turn. She rolled onto her stomach, facing him. She was almost afraid for the answer, but she asked anyway. "And what do you want, Lucas?"

He met her gaze head-on. No doubt she wasn't expecting it when he said, "You." He beckoned her forward, until she was laid across his chest. "The last few months have been so hard. Having you around. Not being able to do this." He pulled her down to steal a kiss, pulling back when she tried to prolong the embrace.

Rolling Peyton beneath him, Lucas pushed her hair out of her face, his fingertips dancing across her cheeks as he stared into her eyes. "This is it, Peyton. No more running scared, no more pushing me away."

Peyton shook her head. "I told you, Luke, I'm done with that. I'm here because of you—I came back for you. I'd wait as long as necessary for you to want me the way I want you. Forever, if it came to that."

Lucas threaded his fingers through Peyton's hair as he weighed his next words. They had to be precise, perfect. "Peyton…," he started glumly. God, he didn't want to muck this up. "I want you, more than anything I ever have. But this—us—it scares me. Because it's right, because when it happens I know it's going to be forever. I can't bear to think of spending years apart from you, much less a day. Hell, the past week damn near killed me." He kissed her forehead. "I need you." He kissed her nose. "I want you." He kissed her lips, lingered. Then, he met her eyes, making sure that they had eye contact before he finished. "_I love you_."

Her heart swelled with happiness, but still she couldn't stop the tear that leaked from the corner of her eye, trailing down toward her ear. "I love you, too, Lucas." Her words were breathless, his having robbed her of her ability to speak.

"It won't be easy, especially with Lily. But I'm willing to try if you are."

"Our friendship? I thought that was all you wanted."

He linked their fingers together, shaking his head. "I thought that was all I wanted, too. I thought I could spend time with you and keep my heart out of it. I thought I could be satisfied with just being friends with you. How stupid was I?" He laughed softly. Regaining his seriousness, he continued. "Who says we can't have it all, though? Friends, lovers—the whole package. I'm willing to take a chance if you are."

"Lucas, you know my answer."

"I do, but I want to hear you say it. Vocal confirmation. I need it."

She nodded. She understood. "Yes. Yes. Always, yes."


	9. The Questions of a Thousand Dreams

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: Two updates in one month. Go me. And I just want to thank those of you who have read and continued to support the story throughout my long hiatuses.

—

**08. The Questions of a Thousand Dreams**

Peyton woke with a start to find her bedroom swathed in darkness, a shaft of light from the outside streetlamp shining through a part in the curtains. She knew before she turned to look that the bed beside her was empty. Searching the room for Lucas, she found him watching her from the vintage wingback chair in the corner, noticing immediately that he was fully dressed. "Hey, everything okay?"

Lucas watched as Peyton sat up, pulling the sheet to her breasts, covering her nakedness. _So, she was going to be shy now_, he thought with a sinister smile. Oh, to stalk across the room, pull that sheet away… But there was no time for more wickedness. Not now. Besides, hadn't he spent the damn afternoon between her legs? His lust should've been slaked. But he just couldn't get enough of her. It was going to take an act of Congress to get his feet out the door. Shaking his phone as he stood up, he said, "I got a call from Mrs. Warner. I have to go pick Lily up. She's sick."

Peyton remembered him telling her earlier that afternoon that Lily was at a sleepover. "I hope she's going to be okay," she said, suddenly concerned, as he approached the bed.

Leaning over her, Lucas said, "I'm sure she's going to be fine. It's only a tummy ache. I talked to her, to see if Vanessa couldn't just give her some medicine and put her to bed, but she wants to go home." Eyes raking over Peyton's mussed hair to her to her pouty pink lips to the sheet hiding her from his hungry eyes, Lucas had to tamp down the urge to pounce her again. But Lily was waiting for him; he couldn't dawdle.

Peyton wasn't the least bit concerned with tearing off his clothes, anyway as she said, "There's no place like your own bed when you aren't feeling well." As an afterthought, she added, "Read her a book. That always helped me whenever I was sick."

Gosh, she was a remarkable woman. But then he had always known that, hadn't he? She was a thousand times the person he was. Yet, somehow, being in her presence, loving her and being loved by her in return, made him a better person. Lucas didn't know how he knew it, he just did. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay," he whispered, feeling like he was disappointing her somehow.

Peyton shook her head, tucking the sheet around herself when it fell slightly, providing him with a glimpse of the swell of her breasts. He palmed his thigh to keep from reaching out for her. It was damn annoying that he couldn't keep his hands off of her."Don't be ridiculous," she insisted. "It's fine. We had a nice, enjoyable afternoon together. I couldn't ask for more." A selfish part of her wanted him to stay, possibly make love to her again, but they both had to think of Lily. He had told her before that this wasn't about them and though there was no doubt that they wanted to be swept away by their passion for each other, they had to think of Lily. Their reconciliation affected her, too. Probably more. Probably the most.

Somewhat amused, he echoed, "Nice? Enjoyable?" She sounded like she was describing a day at the beach. "Those were some passionate adjectives you used, Peyton. Don't stroke my ego or anything," he teased her, her blush and averted gaze delighting him.

"I just meant… it was special. I'm glad you came." Her blushed deepened when she realized her Freudian slip. He grinned at her, enjoying her embarrassment—it was an odd occurrence to see Peyton so flustered. "You should go."

"Kicking me out?"

Covering his hand with hers, she shook her head, insisting, "No. I just know that you need to pick up Lily." Not that she would object to him staying; she knew he wouldn't—couldn't.

Lucas frowned. Was he imagining it or did she sound a little disappointed? A part of him wanted her to coax him back into her arms, back into her bed, but he knew that wouldn't be very mature of him. He couldn't very well disappear into Peyton's bed. Though, the prospect did hold some appeal—a remarkable amount, if he wanted to be honest.

"I'll call you in the morning," he said, brushing a kiss across her lips. Then, Peyton's tongue touched his bottom lip and, as the kiss deepened, he pressed her down into the mattress, her legs parting in silent invitation. "I have to go," he murmured against her lips, grinding against her subtly.

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, nails raking over his chest as he pulled her earlobe between his teeth, traced the shell of his ear with his tongue. "Mmm," she moaned, pleased. "Luke you do need to go," she agreed, even though she made no move to push him away or rebuff his advances.

Lucas fought with the urge to push the sheet aside and slip back inside her willing body, but knew that he couldn't keep Lily waiting. She was probably wondering where he was as it was. Regaining his head, he abruptly broke the embrace, slithering off of Peyton and stepping away from the bed. "Temptress," he muttered, taking a deep breath.

Peyton fell back onto her pillows as Lucas walked towards the door. At the threshold, he turned back to her, a dozen different emotions playing across his face. It was hard to distinguish them in the darkened bedroom, so she didn't even bother to attempt it. Then, he said, "I love you, Peyton. I used to be afraid of that, of how much I felt for you. Loving you is as familiar to me as breathing and that's something I never want to be without ever again." There was obviously more he wanted to say, but since he was pressed for time, he settled with, "I'll see you tomorrow."

She was speechless, still grappling for something to say as he took his leave, saying nothing further, not even waiting around for her to say anything at all, much less goodbye. Then again she'd laid her heart open for him weeks ago. Now, it seemed, that he was doing the same.

—

At breakfast the following morning, Lucas sat across from Lily, pushing his Cheerios around his bowl as he debated the best way to broach the subject of Peyton and the change in their relationship. How was he to put it into words a four year old would understand? That they were more than friends? That Peyton was now his girlfriend? He wrinkled his nose at that word. Not even girlfriend managed to exemplify just what she was to him.

"Are you okay, Luke? Because you look like you wanna hurl," Lily observed across from him.

He glared at her. "Didn't we have a talk about proper table conversation?"

She deflated a little, shoulders hunching, mouth shutting in deference. Spooning cereal into her mouth, she waited until she'd chewed and swallowed before replying, "I'm sorry, Luke. But it was the truth."

Pushing his bowl aside, he leaned back in his chair, saying, "I don't doubt that it was." He sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. He figured he'd just as soon dive right in. "I have something I need to tell you, Lil."

"You're buying me a puppy?" she said with so much enthusiasm he hated to disappoint her.

He shook his head. She'd been begging him for a puppy but since they couldn't have pets in the building, he'd had to decline every time she brought the subject up. Then he'd have to buy her a new toy to pacify her, guilty he was for not being able to give her something that she wanted so much. "So, um… you like Peyton, right?" he asked, skating over the dog issue entirely.

Lily nodded. "She's nice. Why?"

"Well…" Here was the hard part—the telling. He had to make sure that he chose the right words, eased gently into breaking the news to her. "Peyton's going to be around a lot more."

"Like Claudia?" Lily asked, spooning more Cheerios into her mouth, milk dribbling down her chin. Lucas picked up a napkin, leaning over to wipe the excess milk away. Handing it to her when he finished, he watched as she wiped again.

He rubbed his temples. He knew he was making this harder than it was. Truth to be told, he was scared witless that Lily would disapprove. "Not quite like that. Peyton's my girlfriend now. So, she's going to be here more often." Actually he didn't know that for certain; he was just assuming. They needed to have that conversation. That is, if he could be alone with her without wanting to tackle her to the ground and rip off her clothes.

"Oh."

Lucas didn't know what he expected her to say. Did he expect her to throw a tantrum? Yell, scream, kick him? He couldn't be sure. Lily liked Peyton, enjoyed spending time with her, that much he knew. She got to do girly things with Peyton. They did each other's hair. Did each other's makeup. Lily wore Peyton's clothes. Bringing Peyton into their lives would be a good thing. It had to be. "Are you going to get married?"

Of all the questions that he'd thought she'd ask, that hadn't been one of them. "That remains to be seen right now." It was true that he wanted to marry Peyton someday—he always had. Hell, after graduation he'd entertained the thought of proposing before she left for Los Angeles. In the end he didn't because his proposal would've been for the wrong reasons. He'd envisioned it as a surefire way to make sure that she returned to him after her internship. Peyton deserved a heartfelt proposal, one that held promises of forever. Not only that, it would've been selfish, too. Neither of them would've been happy being married and being apart. When he made her his wife it was going to be a real marriage, one like his mom had envisioned with Keith, the one that she'd never gotten. Pushing his wayward thoughts aside, he asked, "Would you object to that? Me marrying Peyton?"

Lily mulled it over for a second, then shook her head. Lucas blew out a relieved breath as the doorbell rang. As always Claudia was her punctual self. "Go get your stuff," he told Lily, watching as she shot out of her chair like a lightning bolt.

Long after Lily had left with Claudia, Lucas mulled over her question. Would he marry Peyton? Did she even want to marry him? The questions continued to plague him as he grabbed his keys, leaving went to meet the guys at the Rivercourt. Basketball would help him get his mind off of Peyton and marriage. He hoped.

—

Peyton had just gotten through talking to Brooke when she heard the knock at the door. She hadn't told Brooke about Lucas. She didn't know why exactly, she just hadn't wanted to. Brooke still wanted her to go to New York to help her get her mind off of Lucas and everything that had been happening lately. Something had kept her from telling Brooke. Not that she thought that Brooke wouldn't be happy for her—she knew that Brooke would be ecstatic for her. There was just a part of her that hated being happy when Brooke wasn't. Then again, she liked having this little secret. It was exhilarating being with Lucas and no one knowing about them.

Pulling open the door, she felt herself smile and blush as she found Lucas standing there. "Hi."

"Surely you've got a better greeting for me than that?" he said, arm circling her waist, mouth on hers as he backed her into the apartment.

Lucas backed them against the door once it was closed, kissing her until they were both breathless, touching her until they both wanted more. Remembering that he hadn't come here for that, he pushed her away. "I came to talk to you."

Peyton nodded, stepping away. "Well, you were the one that attacked me."

Lucas followed her toward the kitchen, insisting, "I did not attack you. Besides, you know you liked it." She threw him a saucy look over her shoulder that had him wishing he _had _attacked her. The damn woman.

"So, you said you wanted to talk," she said, facing him. "What about?"

Their was an accusing tone to her voice that he didn't like one bit. "I'm not having second thoughts, if that's what you're thinking." When she quickly dropped her gaze to the floor, he knew he was spot on. Sighing, he confessed, "I told Lily this morning."

"Already? I didn't think you'd do it so soon." She had expected him to put off that particular conversation for a few days, possibly a few weeks. She'd figured he'd wait until they were together for awhile before telling Lily about them. Wow. So he _wasn't _having second thoughts.

Lucas shot her an annoyed look, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen. "I told you last night how I felt, Peyton. I thought you understood."

"I did—I do. I just thought…" she let out a sigh, leaning against the counter. "I thought you'd wait to make sure that it was right." He was showing her that he was all in, fully committed. It was more than she'd hoped for a week ago. She wasn't sure how to react. Obviously downplaying his commitment wasn't the reaction that he was looking for.

"You might not know if it's right, but I know. _I_ know, Peyton. I've known since… well, I've always known. It's you who took some convincing."

That hit one of her nerves. "Well, excuse me for being a little confused in that regard. You didn't know who you wanted, Lucas. Me, Brooke, Brooke, me. Was I supposed to guess what you were feeling? And for whom?"

Lucas stepped toward her, lust dissipated, white hot anger flooding his veins. "Oh, excuse me, but who was playing house with Jake Jagielski? And then hooked up with a Fall Out Boy? Maybe I thought I wasn't rockstar enough for you."

They were nearly in each other's face as she yelled, "You should be thanking them, you ass. They made me realize that I was in love with you." Then, taking a breath, she admitted, "When it was all said and done, neither of them were you, Lucas. They don't matter. Not here. Not anymore."

Lucas reached out to take her hand, to pull her closer. "Brooke doesn't matter, either," he added. Not in the romantic sense, at least. She hadn't in years. Not since he'd finally stopped lying to himself about what he felt and who he felt it for.

Peyton nodded, falling into his arms. "I know this is right, Luke. I do. I just wasn't expecting you to."

He hugged her close, whispering, "I want to be with you, Peyton. Today, tomorrow, next month." He pulled her away, looking into her eyes as he said, "You aren't a passing attraction."

"You aren't either."

That was satisfactory. "If we keep doing this, doubting one another, we're not going to get anywhere. It has to stop. Right here, right now."

"That's easy for you to say," Peyton said, pushing away from him. "You weren't told the last few months that this wasn't ever going to happen, that there was no room for you." She shot him a pointed look.

"I admit that I can be an ass, even more so when I'm fighting feelings that I don't want to feel in the first place."

She was being hard on him, she knew. He had been trying to protect Lily as well as himself all these months, not intending to succumb to whatever feelings for her that he had. She had wanted this since before she'd come back to Tree Hill and she was making a mess of it. Brooke would surely give her grief if she knew that she had Lucas and then let him go. Again.

"I don't mean to make everything so hard, Lucas. I'm used to this being difficult so even when it's easy, I have to make something out of nothing."

"Yeah, you're a little high maintenance." He smirked, winked. "But, believe it or not, it's completely endearing." He managed to coax her back to him and steal a few kisses before he had relieve Claudia, but not before he'd invited Peyton over for dinner, instructing her to pack a bag, that she was spending the night. He knew he was moving fast, but he couldn't summon the wherewithal to care. He wanted Peyton in his life and he was determined to have her. No matter how many objections and excuses she made.

—

He'd agreed to dinner with his friends, without running it by Peyton first. They had yet to tell their friends that they were back together so this dinner would be their first outing as a couple. As he contemplated their dinner plans, he pushed open the door to his apartment, only to be assaulted by the smell of cookies. Freshly baked cookies. Chocolate chip, to be precise. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, wondering if he had the right apartment. He looked back at the door to see the number. Twelve. Nope, it was his.

Closing the door behind him, he remembered years ago how Peyton had baked cookies for him… and how awful they had been. In the kitchen he found a pan of chocolate chip cookies cooling on the stove, a Cinderella plate filled on the table. He debated grabbing one off the plate to test, but was afraid to bite into it and find that it tasted of salt. Just thinking about Peyton's salt-flavored cookies made him want to swallow his tongue. Hearing muffled voices coming from Lily's room, he quietly took the five steps required to put him beside the door.

"I like the tiara."

"You don't think my head's too big?"

There was a moment of silence. Then, "Well, it _is _a tad big. Like the size of one of Luke's basketballs."

"Oh, thanks." Lucas could practically hear Peyton's eyes roll.

As he stood beside the door listening to the conversation, he thought about announcing his presence, but thought better of it. Not yet, at any rate. Peering around the doorjamb he found Peyton seated on the floor on one side of Lily's tea table, his sister perched in her dainty little chair on the opposite side. Rounding out the table was Lily's doll, Miss Kay, as well as her favorite stuffed animal, Bear the Bunny.

Lily poured invisible tea into Peyton's teacup, then placed a real cookie on her tray. "Luke doesn't like chocolate chip cookies," Lily told Peyton, supplying the information of her own accord, the little rat.

Peyton shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Tea parties were fun and all, but they were _so _long. The little girl took her tea hosting responsibilities seriously. But she loved playing with Lily, especially after long days at the radio station. Spending time with the little girl improved her sour moods tremendously. Like the one she'd had today after work. They cut back her hours to an alarming degree. That didn't seem to matter much after she'd come to relieve Claudia and Lily had coerced her into a tea party.

Now, she eyed Lily curiously. "He doesn't?" she asked, breaking her cookie in half, setting it back down, making no attempt to eat it. Lily shook her head, pigtails slapping her cheeks.

"That's because I don't have a sweet tooth like you do," Lucas said, breezing into the room. He dropped a kiss atop Lily's head, looking at Peyton quizzically before saying, "I like it. Is this a new look you're going for? Disney Princess?"

Quickly, Peyton pulled off the tiara, setting it on the table. "We were just… having a tea party," she said, smoothing a hand over her head to tame any renegade hairs. Not that this was a surprise for Lucas; he'd seen her and Lily have tea parties before. Still, it didn't make it any less embarrassing.

"And this was a fancy tea party you were attending?" Lucas asked leveling a look at Peyton, gesturing to the feather boa wrapped around her neck, the beaded bracelets around her wrists. Lily he was used to getting all garbed up for her parties; she was four, it was expected. This, however, was the first time he'd seen Peyton get so… in character as well. It made him happy that she went to such great lengths to appease Lily—he'd never be caught dead sporting a tiara _or _a feather boa.

Peyton looked at Lily who giggled as she said, "It was a double date."

Lucas spun around to glare at Bear, the only "male" at the table. He glanced at Peyton. "And who was Bear's date—you or Lily?"

"Oh, mine. Lily's date stood her up," Peyton said with all the seriousness she could muster. At his raised eyebrow, she leaned toward him, whispering, "Mr. Frog had an accident."

Lucas tried very hard to keep his laughter in check, but he failed, guffaws bubbling to the surface. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lily stand up abruptly, outraged, as she yelled, "It's not funny, Luke." She stomped her foot in agitation, huffing.

Regaining his composure, he cleared his throat, asking, "What happened?"

He stood beside Peyton as Lily crouched down beside her bed, pulling out an old shoebox. She set the box down on the bed, sliding off the lid. Inside, her frog lay nestled in tissue paper, his two arms laying beside his torso, having unsown. He gasped for effect. "How did it happen?"

Lily sighed dramatically. "It was an accident. But he went quietly."

"Well, it sounds like you've had a traumatic afternoon," he said, replacing the lid on the makeshift coffin. "Let's go get cleaned up for supper." Taking her hand, Lucas pulled her from the room, Peyton directly behind them.

He fixed her bathwater and once she was situated in the bathtub in a vat of bubbles with crayons and toys, he walked into the living room where Peyton was sitting on the sofa, her legs curled up beneath her. He sat down beside her, pulling her legs onto his lap. "Your head isn't as big as one of my basketballs," he told her.

"Thank you," she said, as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Luke pressed a kiss to her temple, laughing softly, as he told her, "I love your big head."

"That's so sweet." She said angling up to brush a kiss to his lips as Lily yelled from the bathroom, "Peyton, I need you!" Both sighing, Peyton patted his cheek as a consolation, then scrambled to her feet. "What are we doing for supper?" she asked him, standing just outside the bathroom door.

"We're going out. The whole gang. Skills made reservations." He hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that, had wanted to use a little more finesse. They had yet to discuss what they were going to tell their friends. Which was probably why they had stayed cocooned in his apartment for the last five days. He'd seen the guys—they met twice a week if they were able—at the Rivercourt. They'd commented on his happy demeanor but hadn't said much more than that; Lucas was pretty sure they had their suspicions. He held his breath, hoping that she didn't throw anything at his head for not calling to ask her opinion before he'd said yes.

Peyton's smile faltered, but not objects were thrown. "Is that… is that wise?" she stammered when she finally spoke. "We haven't told them, Luke. It could be awkward. Lily will feel the tension—"

"Everything's going to be fine," he interrupted her, scrambling off the sofa. "They've all been angling for this for months. Believe me, they won't have a problem." He could tell she was unconvinced, but she said nothing else, just nodded her head and disappeared into the bathroom.

As he got dressed later, Lucas had a feeling that his relationship depended on how this dinner turned out. Regardless, good or bad, he wasn't giving Peyton up. She could give him a thousand excuses, his friends could object—he didn't give a damn. He wanted her, and not just for a quick lay. He wanted her as his girlfriend, his partner, even as his wife. He wasn't ready for that commitment quite yet, but knew that's exactly what he wanted. Peyton—forever.

—

"You look nice," Lucas told Peyton as they stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. She was wearing a dark brown cocktail dress that made her legs look longer than they were. As he stared at them he thought of them later tangled in his sheets.

Peyton stopped ruffling through her purse to look at him and smile. "You don't look so bad yourself." He was wearing a blue button down with a pair of black slacks. She stepped closer to him, reaching up to toy with his collar. There was nothing wrong with it; her hands were just itching to touch him.

"What about me? How do I look?" Lily asked, insinuating herself into their conversation, her body between theirs.

Peyton stepped away from Lucas, dropping her attention to the child. Touching the top of Lily's head, she said, "You will be the prettiest one at the table."

Lily's mouth formed a complete "O". "Even prettier than Bevin?"

"Well, I… I do believe so," she said, watching as Lily's eyes lit up as she turned her attention to her brother.

"Heard that, Luke? I'm gonna be the prettiest one at the table."

"Of that I have no doubt," he told her, watching as she spun on her heel and began leading them toward the restaurant. He grabbed Peyton's hand, pulling her close to his side as they neared the door where Lily stood waiting. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Peyton said as he dropped her hand to open up the door. As she walked in, Lily at her side, the hostess approached. Peyton quickly informed her that they were part of a party. They were left to find their table, which wasn't hard, considering the decibel level. "Seems that the party's started without us," Peyton whispered to Lucas.

He just nodded, entering the private room. Waiters were milling about the table, refilling drink orders. At their arrival, conversation stopped, eyes looking up to them, locking on his and Peyton's joined hands.

No one said anything, though until they were seated—Peyton on his right, Lily on his left. They made their drinks orders, and after the waiters disappeared, the questions flew in a frenzy: When did this happen? How come you didn't tell us? What does this mean? How serious are you?

"Guys," Lucas said, interrupting the barrage of questions, "It just happened. We're taking things one day at a time, not rushing into anything." He slid a look in Peyton's direction and she was smiling and nodding in obvious agreement.

"You waited long enough," Skills complained, picking up his beer bottle.

Lucas didn't disagree; they had waited long enough. Too long, in fact. And as he watched his friends with their respective girlfriends and Skills with Bevin he knew that he wouldn't be waiting much longer to make her a permanent part of his life. When it was right, it was right and you had to seize the moment. And that's exactly what he planned to do.

—

Lucas found her standing on the balcony, staring up at the stars. Hands circling her waist, he nuzzled her neck, murmuring, "What's on your mind? And don't say nothing because I know you'll be lying."

Peyton sighed, leaning her head back against his chest. She was content. She had been so worried that their friends would object to their relationship. Now, though, she could breathe a sigh of relief at how supportive they had been. Of course, Brooke still didn't know so there was that left to deal with. As well as Nathan and Haley. That was on tomorrow's agenda. "I'm happy, Lucas. Really happy."

"I'm glad."

Peyton turned in his arms, saying, "No, I don't think you get it. You make me happy. You and Lily. Whatever this is, whatever it turns out to be, I wanted you to know that it makes me happy."

She kissed him then, a slow merge of lips, a quick slide of her tongue against the seam of his lips, seeking more, demanding it. He obliged, opening his mouth, pulling her tight against him. As the sounds of the night surrounded them, their embrace soon tapered, but Lucas didn't let her go. He held Peyton in his arms and soon they were swaying, dancing.

"There's no music," Peyton pointed out, still moving her hips in time with his.

"Easily rectified," he told her, leaving her side go back into the apartment. A moment later he returned with a portable stereo. Setting it down on a chair, he powered it up and soon James Taylor was softly oozing from the speakers. Lucas extended his hand. "May I have this dance?"

"What are you doing?" Peyton asked as she gave him her hand and he enveloped her in his arms once more.

He twirled her around as he said, "I thought it was obvious—we're dancing."

"The last time we danced was at Skills and Bevin's wedding," she reminded him, remembering that dance, how cold Lucas had been to her. It was a change from the Lucas that held her, smiled at her, kissed her.

"A lot has changed since then." As if reading her mind, he said, "I'm sorry about that night and the ones that followed. Seeing you again, even though I was kind of prepared for it, it hurt. I didn't know how to handle it."

Peyton toyed with the collar of his shirt. "I may not have liked it, but I understood. You were hurting. I probably shouldn't have come back, but—"

Lucas grabbed her wrist, making Peyton's head shoot up in alarm. "Don't say that. You had every right to be there. My problems were just that—my problems. Besides, we found our way back to each other, didn't we?" She nodded. "I didn't say anything for us to dredge up the hurt and blame and betrayal again. I just wanted you to know that I wasn't an ass to you on purpose. Seeing you again simply brought to surface all those feelings I had buried. I didn't like it." Lucas let go of her wrist, dropping his hand to her shoulder, found that her bare skin was chilled from the night air. "Come on," he urged, "Let's go to bed."

But Peyton shook her head, linking her arms around his neck. "No. We're dancing."

"If you insist."

"I do."

—

Lucas felt Peyton nudge him, but he wasn't ready to wake up yet, was barely even asleep. "I'm sleeping. Shh," he grunted, rolling away from her.

"Lucas," Peyton whispered in his ear, her body half covering his. When he made no move to answer her nor awaken, she pinched him.

"Ow!" he howled. Glaring over his shoulder at her, he snarled, "What?" Then, he realized his cell was ringing—and it was Haley's ringtone. "Shit," he cursed, swiping his hand across his face.

"It's just after eleven," Peyton informed him. "I'm guessing she spoke to Bevin."

"This is not a conversation I want to have right now," he muttered to Peyton as he reached for the phone. Flipping it open, he answered, "Hello?"

"What the hell, Luke?" Haley snapped automatically. Yes, this was definitely a conversation he needed to be fully awake for, that needed to wait until morning.

Rolling onto his back, Lucas yawned as Peyton moved against his side, resting her head on his chest. "Do you realize what time it is?" he asked, craning his head to look at the clock. "I was sleeping," he felt inclined to point out.

"I wanted to call earlier, but once Bevin starts talking there's no getting her to shut up. I called you as soon as I got off the phone with her."

"I appreciate that." He suppressed another yawn. "Couldn't this have waited until morning?"

Haley ignored him, pressing on with her reason for calling. "You had to know I'd find out. What I don't understand is why I didn't hear it from _you_. Or from Peyton."

Lucas sighed, skimming his fingers along Peyton's bare back. Her eyes were closed, but her smile told him that she appreciated the caress. "Haley, it was not a conspiracy. We didn't tell everyone but you on purpose. I was going to call you tomorrow. Honest. It was late when we got home. We got busy putting Lily to bed and it just… slipped our minds."

"Still. It would have been nice to hear it from you. Bevin treated it as a piece of Hollywood gossip. I thought she was going to tell me that Angelina Jolie was adopting again. I did not expect her to go into a whole spiel about how cute and happy you and Peyton looked together. That the two of you were back together."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. He should have told her first, he knew that. But he'd wanted a few days to have Peyton all to himself, ease back into the relationship, before it became public knowledge and their friends began asking questions and making assumptions.

Finally, Haley relented. "You sound sorry so I'll let it go. You also sound tired. You'll call me tomorrow and tell me everything?"

Lucas promised, "I will." After they exchanged goodnights, he shut his phone with a sigh. "Sorry about that," he apologized to Peyton, kissing her cheek. "At least everyone knows now."

"Well…," she drawled. "Not everyone."


	10. Change Changes Things

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: Really, guys, I am SO SORRY for the gap between updates. I had hoped to have this finished by now. But it is dwindling to the end. There's two chapters left after this one and with any luck I'll have them posted in a timely fashion. Also, I should point out that there's lots of Brooke in this chapter. I didn't intend it to become such a huge part, but it was something that I just couldn't part with in the end. Hope you enjoy it. :)

—

**09. Change Changes Things**

Brooke Davis was on a mission. An ass-kicking mission. She was locked, loaded and ready to fire. Target numero uno was her best friend. Her objective? Kick Peyton's hide from Tree Hill to the far recesses of the moon for not telling her that she had reunited with her ex-boyfriend. Then, she would kick said ex-boyfriend's ass for not telling her either. She was in New York, not on Mars. She warranted a phone call, dammit.

Standing outside Luke's apartment, she lifted her hand to knock, but on second thought curled her fingers into a fist to pound on the door. Ha, there! She hoped she interrupted some early morning activity. A moment later that thought manifested in her head. "Ew," she muttered to herself, pounding on the door again.

A couple coming out of their apartment looked at her curiously. It was before seven in the morning on a Sunday. They were probably headed to church, a sure bet considering their fancy attire. "I got locked out," she told them with a smile as she contemplated kicking the door as well. However, she was wearing a pair of funky pink suede peep-toe pumps and it she refused to scuff up her pretty footwear. Or sprain a toe. Not for Peyton and Lucas.

Suddenly, the door swung inward and Luke stood there, his hair in disarray, wearing a pair of plaid boxer shorts and nothing else. "Brooke?" he asked, amidst a yawn. "What are you doing here?"

She pushed past him into the apartment, asking, "Where's Peyton?" The house was quiet. The shades were still drawn, the apartment still bathed in darkness. She heard the door close behind her so she swung around to face Lucas. "How come I was the last to know?"

He automatically knew what she was talking about because he asked, "Bevin?"

Brooke stared at him for a moment before answering, "Haley, actually." She followed Lucas into the kitchen. "I thought I warranted a phone call. I mean, wasn't I the one that told you to go after her?"

"You were," he agreed.

Lucas fumbled with the coffee pot, clanging and banging things as he went along. Brooke eyed him curiously, stifling a giggle behind her hand at the nail marks down his back. Well. Her anger dwindled a little.

"She's in the bedroom if you want to go yell at her," Lucas said as he began busying himself with making a pot of coffee.

Boy, was she tempted. She'd run out of steam, though. Sighing, she said, "No, that's okay. I can wait. She sleeps like the dead anyway." Brooke walked around the table, eyeing the apartment's attributes. It was quaint and homely, nothing like her condo in New York. "This is different. You like it here, Luke?"

"It's home."

"And Peyton? She's been here often, I suspect." Brooke had noticed Peyton's things laying about: the art pad sticking out from beneath the sofa, a few of her albums sitting beneath a doll on the counter, a dress hanging in the foyer.

"Pretty frequently," Lucas said quickly. Peyton had only been back to her apartment to get clean clothes and check her mail. Since after the very first night they'd spent together, they hadn't spent one apart. And he didn't plan on that changing anytime soon.

Brooke approached him where he stood near the sink, watching the coffee begin to brew. "Is that decaf?" she asked, pointing to the pot. Then, shaking her head and waving her hands, she said, "Nevermind. It doesn't really matter."

Walking to the table, Brooke threw herself into a chair, suddenly weary. She looked up when she heard a door open. She expected Peyton to enter the kitchen, but instead a miniature version of Karen ran into the room in a purple Hannah Montana nightgown, her dark hair a tangled mess.

Lucas turned abruptly, catching her in his arms. He set her on the counter and Brooke watched as they conversed, Lily no doubt asking who she was. A few moment later Lucas set her back on her feet and she went scampering off.

"Has she took to Peyton?"

"Like butter on toast," Lucas said with a soft laugh. Turning to face Brooke, he went on. "I had no doubt that she would; it's Peyton, after all. But I see them doing girly things together and it makes me wish that my mom were around to do those things with her. I think she misses that maternal influence."

Lucas could be so dim-witted sometimes. Brooke rolled her eyes and pointed out the obvious. "So do something about it. Give her a maternal influence."

Lucas cocked a brow. "Not five minutes ago you were seething because we hadn't told you that we were back together. Now you're pushing me to propose?" He spun around, busying himself with pulling coffee cups from the cupboard. Not that he hadn't thought about it. He'd even gone as far to take an afternoon off of work to go ring shopping. He'd gone to two stores before he'd realized that maybe that weren't ready for that quite yet. It had only been a few months, after all. If he presented Peyton with a ring there was no telling what she would do. Probably run all the way back to L.A.

"I'm unpredictable," Brooke told him, waving her hand back and forth in a dismissive manner. "Seriously, Luke. I know you've thought about it. I can tell."

Lucas glanced over his shoulder at her. "Yeah? You think so?"

"I may not be the love of your life, but I know you. And I know about all those promises you made regarding Lily. You wouldn't let Peyton into her life unless you were thinking of making a life with her. I could be wrong… but I doubt it."

Lucas opened his mouth to say something, but Brooke would never know what he would have said since Peyton chose that moment to walk out of the bedroom, Lily trailing two steps behind her.

"What are you doing here?" Peyton asked as soon as she entered the kitchen.

She met Lucas at the counter, accepting the coffee cup that he held outstretched. "As if you have to ask," he muttered. Peyton murmured good morning, brandishing him with a smile, and pressing the kiss on his cheek that he'd come to expect each morning.

Peyton curled her hands around her cup, staring down into the dark depth, muttering, "Can't anyone keep a secret?"

"Oh, you mean besides you and Lucas?" Brooke piped in. "That'd be a no." Standing up, she said, "I don't understand what the big deal was. So you're back together. You knew we'd all be ecstatic. Of course we were all beginning to wonder what was taking Lucas so long—"

"Hey!" he objected. "I resent that."

He handed her a cup of coffee which she took willingly. "Whatever, Luke. We girls don't like to wait forever, you know." She pointed a look at Peyton. "No matter how much we want you. Sooner or later you would've found Peyton sitting naked on your desk at work with a basketball strategically placed."

Lucas took a moment to picture the scene in his head. Pity that hadn't come to fruition. He would've liked to walk into his office to _that_. He looked to Peyton as if to ask for consideration and she simply shrugged, tossing him a saucy smile. He covered a satisfied smirk with his coffee cup.

"If you two are gonna be throwing each other those sex looks, I'll let myself out and take myself back to Manhattan."

Getting hold of herself and pulling her eyes from Lucas, Peyton set down her coffee cup, asking, "Brooke, would you care to spend the morning with us? We're making pancakes."

"You?" Brooke tried to keep the horror out of her voice. As much as she loved Peyton, the girl couldn't cook. Then again, she couldn't, either.

Peyton frowned. Lucas had made a similar quip about her cookies. Besides, her cooking wasn't that bad. Unfortunately, it wasn't that great either. You make one bad mistake with salt and nobody lets you live it down! "God no," she said, walking to the refrigerator. "Luke does them. I wouldn't even attempt to try." She grabbed the gallon of milk, the carton of eggs and the tub of butter, setting them on the cabinet for him. "So, what do you say?"

Brooke glanced at Lucas. "Is that okay with you, Luke?"

He took a sip from his coffee before he answered. "You're family, Brooke. We wouldn't have it any other way."

Tuesday afternoon while Lucas was at basketball practice and Lily was with Claudia, Peyton accompanied Brooke to the airport, hating that her best friend was returning to New York. It was easy to fall into routine with Brooke around and Peyton realized that she missed her when she wasn't around. Tremendously.

"I hate that you're leaving."

"Duty calls," Brooke said, waving her Blackberry. "I have a meeting this afternoon. I can't miss it." As they stood in the terminal waiting for Brooke's flight to begin boarding, she said, "I'm glad I came. I got to see you and Lucas together, see the two of you in your element."

Peyton sighed. "We've been talking about me and Lucas for the past two days, Brooke. I'm tired of talking about me. You haven't told me anything about New York, except for how busy you are and how lonely it is. Surely there's got to be more."

Brooke was never good about keeping things from Peyton. Her best friend had the uncanny ability to always see right through her, straight to her heart. And she prided herself on not being transparent. "I came because I was angry at you for not telling me about you and Lucas," she began. "But that wasn't it at all. I mean, it was. A little bit. But mostly because I felt guilty for not telling you…"

"For not telling me, what?"

"I've met someone." Peyton let out a small squeak, garnering attention from those that stood around them.

"Oh, don't worry about them," Peyton told her. "Who? When?" She pinched Brooke on the arm. "And why didn't you tell me?"

Brooke shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I wanted to make sure it was right. But then there was… you see… he's married." At Peyton's gasp, she quickly added, "He's been separated forever, but he's married, Peyton."

Peyton cocked her head to the side, eying her curiously. "You weren't what broke up the marriage, were you?"

"Of course not! His wife cheated, not him."

Peyton nodded her head, taking it all in. "How long have you been seeing him?"

Brooke bit her lip, then confessed, "Six months," bracing herself for the outburst that would follow. One that was justly deserved.

Peyton glared at her best friend, then smacked her head. "You give me shit for not telling you about me and Lucas when it happened just a few days ago and you've been seeing a guy for half a year?"

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You should be," Peyton said, crossing her arms over her chest. "And all that crap a few months ago about you being ready to fall in love and come home?"

Brooke shrugged her shoulders. "We'd broken up for a few weeks. I wanted to escape New York and everything that reminded me of him. I figured leaving New York behind completely would help me get over him."

Brooke glanced out the window, watching a plane taxiing the runway. She remembered being packed and ready to head home to Tree Hill only to open the door to find Evan standing on her doorstep. His blue eyes had darkened as he'd spied her bags, saw the plane ticket in her hand, demanded to know what she was doing, where she was going. No "Hey, how are you? Oh, you're going on a trip?" Instead, he'd stormed into her apartment, telling her she couldn't leave. When he realized that his high-handedness was only pissing her off, he changed his tactic. He begged her not to leave, apologized for pushing her away. He wanted her, he had said, and that scared him. He'd fought for her in a way that Lucas never had. In a way, that scared her, too.

"You're smiling."

Brooke looked at Peyton, wiping the smile off her face. "No, I'm not," she insisted.

"You are," Peyton said, her voice filled with awe. "This is serious." They moved away from the crowd, closer to the windows. "How'd you meet him?"

"We work in the same business." At Peyton's alarmed look, she added, "He doesn't work for me. That's company policy for a reason. It would make the work place hell. Evan—that's his name—works at another company. A rival one, if you can believe it."

"I'd seen him before, but never really noticed him, you know? Sometimes I can't believe that I never did. Maybe I didn't because he wasn't available then. Anyway, one day we were at this meeting. We'd been sitting across from each other for hours, waiting our turn for our presentations. Then, our meetings got cancelled. We took the same elevator to the ground, stood side by side waiting for a cab. He flagged one down and asked if I wanted to share." Brooke smiled fondly at the memory. Remembered Evan's knee knocking hers and the spark of electricity that had flooded her veins.

Peyton nudged her. "If you keep doing that, you're never going to finish," Peyton told her with a laugh in her voice.

"Do what? What am I doing?"

"You get this goofy smile on your face when you talk." Peyton paused, thinking. "Do I get like that talking about Lucas?"

"Yep."

"So, you've got it bad, then."

"Yep." Then, "Okay. Where was I? Oh, right. We shared a cab. I was going to get dropped off first, but when we were a block away from my condo, he asks if I want to get dinner. I started to decline, but he reminded me that I'd only had a Diet Coke and a Snickers for lunch."

"Healthy."

Brooke rolled her eyes, deftly ignoring Peyton. "So I let him take me to dinner. He told me upfront that he was married, but separated. The divorce was moving along, but at a snail's pace. They were high school sweethearts, married a year after graduation. She didn't want kids, he did and when she got pregnant, things spiraled downward from there." Brooke cleared her throat. "When he escorted me home, he didn't ask for my number or to see me again. He sent me roses the following day, though. Fake ones, not real ones. The card said, "A memento." We ran into each other at two more meetings, had dinner following each one. It wasn't until after the third one that he asked for my number and we went on a real date."

"And the roses? Did you keep them?"

"They've sat on my desk at work for six months."

Satisfied with that, Peyton asked, "Have you met his wife?"

"Once. She was cordial enough, I guess. Doesn't care one whit about their daughter. Evan's trying to get full custody."

Flummoxed, Peyton gaped. "Wow. How old is she?"

"Two. She loves her daddy something fierce. The feeling's mutual, too. I've seen Nathan with Jamie and Lucas with Lily, but Evan and Olivia? It's just—"

Before Brooke could complete her sentence, her phone chimed. Evan's name showed on the display. She looked at Peyton, saying, "It's him." Peyton nodded, turning away to afford her some privacy.

"Did you leave yet?" Evan asked when she answered.

"Not yet. I have a few minutes." She looked up at the monitor to make sure. At least ten minutes.

Evan delved right into his reason for calling. "How did your visit with Peyton go?"

Glancing at her best friend, she said, "Better than I had hoped. I told her about us."

Evan's silence told her that he was surprised. "And?"

"She's my best friend, Evan. She wants me to be happy. I think she's reserving judgment until she meets you, though."

"I've been plaguing you for months to meet your friends. You're the one that's wanted to keep me your dirty little secret."

"You're not my dirty little secret, Evan. You know that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Besides, how was I supposed to tell them anything when you kept breaking up with me," she snapped, instantly regretting her brusque words. Evan's sigh came through the line loud and clear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"It's okay," he assured. "Listen, I have Livvie. I thought we could pick you up from the airport and grab dinner somewhere afterwards. If you're up for it."

"Sounds great. I'll be in around six."

"We'll be the ones holding up the sign for Brooke Davis."

Evan ended the call before she could say anything more. Before she could say those three little words that would be her undoing. Peyton was at her side as she lifted the phone away from her ear. "He's picking me up at the airport."

"That's nice of him."

"He's a nice guy," she said, tears pooling in her eyes for no reason whatsoever. She took a deep breath, blinking them back before Peyton could see her falling apart and badgered her about it. The fact of the matter was that she wanted to go home. To New York. To Evan. Wherever he was, that was home. She needed to tell him that. She had to get home so that she could tell him that—that and so much more.

As they called for her flight, Peyton handed Brooke her carryon. "Call me when you land." They hugged as the people milling about them began to board. "You'll tell me if something happens with Evan, won't you?"

"Promise. The same goes for you."

Peyton stood watching as Brooke disappeared through the gate, then began making her way through the airport toward the parking lot. She had just stepped through the sliding glass doors, outside, when her phone rang. "Hey, she's off?" Lucas asked.

"Yes. And she's in love."

Peyton could feel Lily's eyes on her, even though the little girl had been preoccupied with her colors for the better part of an hour. She knew that Lily had something on her mind, wanted to ask her something, but each time she turned to meet the little girl's curious gaze, Lily immediately returned her attention back to her colors, retaining her silence. So Peyton continued sorting through Luke's CD collection, figuring that Lily would come to her when she was ready.

"You know, I don't think I've ever watched Hannah Montana," Peyton said, setting aside the LP. Turning towards Lily, she asked, "Do you think I would like it?"

For a few moments Lily said nothing, continued her coloring. Peyton didn't like being ignored, but took it all in stride, watching as Lily dug into her colors, switching up her pink for blue. But before she could put color to paper, she looked over at Peyton and asked, "Are you gonna marry Luke?"

That innocent question knocked all the breath from Peyton's lungs. She had no quick response. She and Lucas had barely reconciled, there had been no talk of him making her a permanent part of his life. She wouldn't even know what her response would be to a proposal, had he planned on one. Well…that wasn't exactly true. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that her answer would be a definitive yes. She knew what it was like not to have Lucas in her life and she couldn't bear to go through another day without him. And being his wife, having his children…those were her dreams, her happily ever after.

"Well, I…I just don't know, Lily. I can't say. You'd have to ask Luke about that." Watching the little girl instantly deflate, Peyton wanted to call her words back. Patting her leg, she said, "Come here, honey. Let's have a talk."

Lily didn't object at all. She pushed out of her chair, running across the room to Peyton, throwing her small body into Peyton's lap. "Can't you be my Mommy, Peyton? I want you to be. I know that Luke wants you to be, too."

"Oh, Lily…," Peyton gasped, at a complete loss for words.

When Lily looked up at her, her brown eyes were soft and glossy, tears suspended at the edges, just waiting for the wrong words so they could spill down her rosy cheeks. Peyton hugged the little girl close, rocking her back and forth. "Honey, you had a wonderful Mommy. She was kind and smart and successful and you and Luke were the most important things in her world."

"So, you don't want to be my Mommy?"

Tears were rolling down Lily's cheeks, breaking Peyton's heart in the process. "I'll talk to Luke, okay? That's all we can do for now." Lily curled herself in Peyton's lap and Peyton hugged her close. As she rocked back and forth with Lily in her arms, she had no idea how she was going to discuss this with Luke without breaking into tears herself.

When Lucas returned from practice he was surprised to find Peyton's overnight bag on the kitchen table, her iPod, purse and keys right beside it. Maneuvering through the apartment he found her hovering in Lily's doorway, watching her.

"Hey," he said quietly, not knowing if Lily was already asleep or if Peyton had just tucked her in.

"She's asleep," Peyton told him, pulling the door closed.

Lucas waited for the inevitable kiss of greeting, the welcome home that he'd become accustomed to these past weeks, but none came. It was evident to him that Peyton had something on her mind, that something was bothering her. And he was afraid to ask what that something was.

He followed Peyton back into the kitchen where she began collecting her things off the table, saying, "I'm going back to my apartment tonight."

"What? Why?" He felt like he was missing something. And it was very obvious that he was.

"I have to think, Lucas."

"About…?" he prodded. She was being evasive—purposefully—and he wasn't going to stand by and let her continue in that vein.

Huffing, Peyton pulled her overnight bag from the table, admitting, "Lily asked me today if we were going to marry."

Of all questions for Lily to ask Peyton it _had_ to be that one. He could've dealt with anything but that. Not that he didn't entertain thoughts of Peyton in a gossamer white gown, being escorted to him down a church aisle strewn with rose petals scattered by Lily's own hand. He thought of it constantly, hadn't been able to think of anything else in recent weeks. He woke up at least twice a week in a cold sweat, plagued with the recurring nightmare of their wedding day. In the dream that was always beautiful in its simplicity, everything is picture perfect until the priest asks Peyton if she took him as her husband. It's at that time that she turns her back on him and flees. For good.

"She's a four year old girl. They ask asinine questions like that. You weren't around when she asked why she and James had different pee-pee parts. It was mortifying trying to explain that, believe me."

"I don't doubt that." Peyton slid into a chair at the table, dropping her head into her hands. "She wants me to be her Mommy, Lucas."

Lucas lowered into a chair across from her. "She said that?"

"Verbatim." She shot to her feet, her hands balled into fists. "I can't do this. Not again. I just… can't."

Lucas stood up, moving around the table toward her. "She's just reacting to the change, Peyton. You're the first woman that I've had in my life on a regular basis, aside from Haley and Bevin. She's grasping for longevity. Not only that she likes you and probably does look at you as a mother figure."

"I'm not her mother, Lucas. And I have no intention of replacing Karen."

"That's good. Because I wouldn't let you."

His words should've felt like a verbal slap, but they only reminded her of who Lucas was. And he was not a man who would allow his sister to look at another woman as her mother, not when she lived on in pictures and other mementos, in their memories.

When she turned to the door, she heard Lucas say, "Stay."

"Lucas, this is getting too real."

He turned her to face him. "It wouldn't be worth it if it wasn't real, if it wasn't hard. Stay, Peyton. We'll figure it all out."

She sighed, but melted into his arms, taking the comfort that he offered. "I have a perfectly good apartment across town, you know."

"Yeah, I've been meaning for us to talk about that…"

Peyton tried to keep her eyes off the clock, but a quick glance upward told her that she only ten minutes to go. Lucas was taking her out to dinner to further persuade her to move in with him. It had been a week since their initial discussion, but she hadn't given him a definite answer, much to his annoyance.

It was a big step, but it was the next step. Well, the step before the next step. At least it was a step forward, not backward. She was elated and unsure at the same time, the typical female response when her boyfriend asks her to move in with him. She'd rather be engaged, if not married, before they co-habitated, but they were already living together. What was a measly piece of jewelry or sheet of paper.

Peyton was wrapping up her radio show when she saw her boss, Kate, through the glass of her studio, a dark haired man trailing behind. As the two of them stopped to converse, her eyes landed on the other man and her heart stopped beating. _Brian._

She pulled off her headphones, hit the switch for the next set of music to fill the air until the four o'clock duo took over, then shuffled to her feet as they entered the room. She met her boss's eyes first, unwilling to meet Brian's. "Good afternoon, Peyton. So sorry to barge in," Kate apologized. "I know that you like to get out of here after you wrap up."

Peyton smiled as she supplied Kate with a nonchalant shrug, reaching for her coffee. "It's no problem. What's um… what's up?" Oh, God. Oh, God. Of all people to walk into her workplace, did it have to be Brian Wilkes? Maybe this was karma for not telling him about the baby. Yes. That had to be it. But what the hell was he doing here, in Tree Hill?

Kate stepped back, gestured to Brian. "This is Brian Wilkes. He's a bigwig at one of those California recording companies. He's interested in you."

Peyton sputtered, almost choked on her coffee. "Excuse me?"

Kate shot her an odd look. "He's here to offer you a job."

No. Oh, God, no. She didn't want it. He could take his job offer and shove it up his ass. She didn't need or want Brian or his fancy recording company. He did a lot more than hand out mail, answer phones, send out faxes. He hadn't been assistant to the assistant. He was _someone_. And he was someone that she didn't want to work for, or with. Not here in Tree Hill and definitely not in Los Angeles.

"I'll let Brian fill you in." Then Kate was gone, leaving her alone with Brian.

"Long time," he said, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her feel violated. It wasn't the subtle perusing that she was used to Lucas giving her. His look was lecherous while Luke's was… appraising. Always appraising. Always wanted.

"Not quite long enough," she snapped. She discarded her coffee into the trashcan before rounding on him. "What the hell are you doing here, Brian? What do you want?"

He rocked back on his heels, clucking his tongue. "Exactly what Kate said. I want you, Peyton." Before she could be alarmed, he added, "For the label. There were some shakeups recently and most of our talent scouts walked out. Can you believe that? They just up and left."

"It's not always rainbows and sunshine working for you guys, you know."

Brian nodded, understanding. He'd known the hell she'd gone through trying to break out of her rut as assistant-to-the-assistant. "Look, I went back to look for you and was told that you'd quit and gone home. At first I didn't want to go through all the trouble of finding you. But we hired this new gal who's all about electronica shit and it's just not working for me. I seriously want to toss her out a window." Peyton smiled at that despite herself. "You'd be a good addition, Peyton. You have an ear for talent. We need you. Desperately."

Her smile faltered, hearing his job offer. "My life is here, Brian. I can't go back to L.A. I won't."

His eyes roamed the studio. "You can't be happy here, pushing buttons, taking music requests. You're a tiger, Peyton. You like the thrill of the chase, finding that musician, beating the competition off to secure him or her or them."

She shook her head, averting her gaze from him. "Not anymore," she said, even as the blatant lie burned her throat.

Brian wasn't buying that. "I don't believe it. You couldn't have changed that drastically. And say what you will about L.A., but you can't be happy here. In Nowheresville, North Carolina."

Brian liked the glitz and glamour of L.A. Of course he wouldn't be impressed with Tree Hill. Peyton suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. How, she didn't know. "I am perfectly content with my life, thank you very much."

"Sure you are. Because you like being a radio personality."

The venom in his voice cut her to the quick because—deep down—she knew that what he said was completely true. She wasn't content with working at a radio station, announcing new up and coming bands, every so often being able to talk with one of them, interview them. She wanted to discover them. And Brian knew that.

Peyton watched as Brian reached into the pocket of his three thousand dollar suit, extracting a business card. He took her hand, pressed it into her palm. "Think about it for a few days. Call me. If you don't I'll call you. I'm serious about this, Peyton. I want you on our staff. You won't have to answer any phones or send any faxes. You'll be a scout, nothing more. Free to do what you've always wanted." He caressed her cheek lightly as he said, "Just think about it."

For a long time after Brian left, Peyton stood staring at the card, knowing that she should just throw it into the trashcan. But she didn't.

She wouldn't tell him what was wrong. She just sat there across from him, pushing her food around her plate, only contributing to the conversation when he asked her a question, not supplying him with anymore than was needed.

It was their first time out alone in what felt like forever and the night was not progressing as he had hoped. Finally, having had enough of the silent treatment, he set down his fork, wiped his mouth and said, "Okay. What's your problem?"

"I beg your pardon?" Peyton asked, meeting his gaze directly.

"You've been quiet all evening. I want to know what's wrong." As Peyton opened her mouth to object, to tell him some pretty lie like she was tired or she just wasn't hungry, he cut her off. "No. Don't lie to me. I can tell that something is bothering you, Peyton. I want to know what it is."

"It's nothing," she insisted.

Lucas glared across the table at her, his jaw popping with obvious frustration. He ground his teeth, hoping to rile her the way that he did Lily.

"Okay. Alright!" Peyton pushed aside her plate, wiped her mouth and said, "Brian came to see me."

"Brian…?" he repeated. Who? Lucas searched his memory for a mention of someone named Brian. A coworker. A passing acquaintance. A cousin. Then, it clicked. And his jaw began to twitch. He had no right to be jealous. That he knew. Brian was part of Peyton's life while they were broken up. He knew that, respected that. Moving on had been her right. But the guy had gotten her pregnant and left her. But now he was back? Apparently. What exactly did he want with Peyton? Was he looking to rekindle their relationship? He reached for his beer to get the sour taste out of his mouth that little thought invoked.

"Yeah," Peyton said, sounding just as annoyed as he felt. At least no residual feelings remained. He could breathe a sigh of relief at that. But something told him that the story didn't end there—and he was hesitant to find out where it did. "He stopped by the studio today."

"Yeah, and? What'd he want?"

There was no point beating around the bush. "He offered me a job. In Los Angeles."

"As what? His personal assistant?" he snarked, hating the jealousy that he heard thundering in his ears. He didn't want to think of her leaving, returning to California. And her working for Brian wasn't settling well on him, either. Unbidden images popped in his head. Peyton and Brian laughing together, sharing meals. Brian offering her consolation when her idiot boyfriend from Tree Hill said something rude. Something more developing between the two of them because he was a jealous ass. He groaned.

"Of course I wouldn't be his assistant. I wouldn't be considering if I was just going to be somebody's assistant."

"Wouldn't be considering—you're actually considering taking it?" He didn't even wait for her to answer. He could tell that she was. "I can't believe that you would even—what's the pay? What would your job be? Duties and all that? What are the benefits? Are there benefits? Would you be working under him?" The last was said with a curl of his lip, to provoke her.

Peyton sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd act like this."

"Like what?" he asked, pulling at his tie. The restaurant was stifling. Had they turned up the heat?

"Like a belligerent ass."

"Well, how should I act, Peyton? You drop this bombshell in my lap and expect me to—what? Say, 'Good job, honey. I'm happy for you'?"

"Is that so much to ask? A little support, understanding?" She pushed back her chair, rising to her feet. "But I forgot who I'm talking to. Asking for you to understand something is like asking for the sun to shine blue." She spun on her heel and walked away.

"Peyton!" he yelled after her. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, leaving him gaping after her. He signaled to the waitress, requesting the check. Fifteen minutes later he was suffering the silent treatment as he drove Peyton back to her apartment, per her request.

When he parked and shut off the engine, he tried to talk to her, but she scrambled out the door before he could even get her name out, much less anything that he had meant to say. Smacking his hand on the steering wheel, he climbed out of the car to make sure that she made it to her apartment. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Even though he wanted to wring her pretty little neck.

Following her down the breezeway to her apartment, Lucas was pissed off. And not just at her. Though, she was the source of the anger thundering through his veins at the moment. He was just as pissed off at himself because, as he watched the sway of her hips, despite the fact that he was angry and jealous and being a complete ass hole, he wanted her. The fire in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks… it turned him on. But he knew if he would try to touch her or kiss her, she would rebuff him. She'd probably knee him in the groin just for spite.

Arriving at her door, Peyton ignored Lucas as he sidled up beside her, propping his shoulder up against the wall. Jamming the key into the lock, she told him, "Maybe I should just take the damn job."

"Maybe you should," he found himself readily agreeing. Not that he wanted her to leave to go back to L.A. Of course not. Not after the past few months that they'd spent together, rebuilding what was lost on her last escape to California. But if this was what she wanted, fine, okay. He wasn't going to keep her here if she didn't want to be here.

Pushing open the door, she turned to look at him. "Maybe I should," she repeated, the words hard and evicting on her tongue. While Lucas held her gaze, she searched his face for some sign that betrayed this brittle man that stood in front of her. His face remained stoic, blank, his emotions shuttered, off-limits to her.

Okay, then. He couldn't even take news of a job prospect without freaking out on her, shutting down. How was he going to handle it if something else happened unexpectedly, throwing their lives off-course, into turmoil? Would he duck and run? Erect this steel wall around his heart, around his emotions? Obviously.

"Good," he said with a nod of his head. If he'd wanted to say anything else, he wouldn't have been able to, for Peyton slammed the door shut in his face. And, he had to admit, it was the perfect end to the evening.


	11. Things Aren't As Good As They Can Be

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: While this series dwindles to a close I just want to thank everyone who reviewed, who begged for updates when they were lacking and who held steadfast when it looked as if I had abandoned this story for good. Thank you so much for the love and support. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I thought it imperative to let you all know that the end is immient. Enjoy!

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**10. Things Aren't As Good As They Can Be**

Lucas suffered the silent treatment for three days. Though, to him, it felt more like three years. He received not one phone call, email or measly text. Much less a personable visit. He didn't like it one iota, but he had no one to blame but himself, he'd blundered yet again. Big time.

He'd been a complete buffoon at dinner, then afterwards, blowing up at Peyton for a job offer that he should've congratulated her on. Instead of acting like he had a modicum of respect for her career aspirations, he'd behaved no better than a spoilt child spiraling into a tantrum because they weren't getting their way. And now Peyton was making him pay for his contemptible behavior.

Stepping into his apartment, he tossed the stack of mail and his keys onto the table and went into his bedroom to change clothes. However, as soon as he walked into the room, he noticed that things were different, tidy. The bed was made. His shoes that normally littered the doorway were in the closet, neatly placed, side by side. The nightstand, that had that morning been littered with a couple of Peyton's CD's, a novel and a hairclip, was empty. At the closet, he pushed aside the other door to confirm that her clothes were still there, ready and waiting for her return. Only they weren't—they too were gone.

Glancing at the clock, he checked it see if she was off of work yet. If he hurried, he could catch her before she left the radio station. Ten minutes later he'd made it across town and was running down the hallways, dodging people, to reach her studio. When he arrived at it, Fergie gave him a thumbs up and a huge smile. Slowly, the truth began to dawn on him. She'd taken the job in Los Angeles. Just like he'd told her to.

Peyton sat on the sofa in Brooke's condo, watching as the screen of her cell phone lit up with yet another call from Brian. She hadn't made a decision about his job offer so answering his calls would be pointless. Just like calling Lucas would be pointless, something that she'd been trying not to do since she left Tree Hill. She wasn't ready to deal with any of it. Not yet. Not after leaving Tree Hill that morning, coming to seek shelter with Brooke until she decided what she was going to do.

As her cell phone stopped vibrating and ringing, the door to the condo opened behind her. Peyton spun around to look as Brooke returned, a little girl in her arms, a man trailing after her. Peyton shuffled to her feet.

"Peyton, hey, I'm sorry," Brooke apologized as she bustled into the living room. "I couldn't get rid of him," she said, nodding her head at the man at her side. "He accosted me in the lobby and when he found out that you were here, he insisted on coming up to meet you."

"You sound as if I latched onto your leg and wouldn't let go until you promised me a cookie," Evan balked, rolling his eyes. Diverting his attention to Peyton, he stuck out his hand. "Evan Kincaid."

Peyton shook Evan's hand, noting that his hands were warm and smooth. Not callused like Luke's were. She dismissed the thought as soon as it took root. Her eyes sweeping over Evan, she noticed how he towered over her. There was no doubt that he had an inch or two on Lucas. His eyes were completely arresting, the ice blue offset by his dark hair and skin. She could see what had drawn Brooke to him. He was an attractive man. Smelled nice, too. "Peyton Sawyer. Nice to meet you, Evan."

"Finally, eh?" he teased, nudging Brooke's shoulder.

"Yes, it was my fault you haven't met before now. Do keep reminding me of that little fact," Brooke spat at him.

Peyton watched as Evan's arm circled Brooke's shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "It was my fault, too." His eyes flicked to Peyton. "I kept breaking up with her. I was a fickle, fickle man." He said it as plainly as if he'd just repeated the weather forecast.

Brooke flashed him a bright-but-absolutely-fake smile. "Stupid, you mean. You were a stupid, stupid man," Brooke offered. She shot Peyton a wink at the same time that Evan did. Unfortunately Brooke caught it, her smile morphing to a glower. "Are you flirting with my best friend?" she accused. Oh, if looks could kill.

Evan didn't even bat an eyelash, merely reminded her, "You told me to be nice to her."

"I told you to be nice. Because her boyfriend has been… not so nice. I did not give you leave to seduce her with your boundless charm. She's already the cheese in a manwich. She doesn't need another man panting after her, lavishing attention that he should be saving for his own girlfriend."

"I do not pant," Evan pointed out. "Nor am I interested in Peyton." Shifting his attention at her, he shrugged, suddenly contrite. "No offense."

"None taken," Peyton assured him. Sensing an argument brewing, she asked, "Should I leave you two alone?" She didn't want to be present if there was going to be bloodshed. It was why she left Tree Hill—so that she could resist the temptation to murder her own boyfriend in his sleep. Jerk that he was.

"No," Brooke said at the same time Evan said, "Yes, please." Evan scowled at Brooke, but she didn't wither under his sharp perusal. "No. Sorry. I had a run-in with his wife earlier so I'm a bit territorial. And he's a serial flirter."

It was Peyton's turn to scowl at Evan. He just smiled at her, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Guilty."

"That's not an attractive quality, you putz!" Brooke snapped at him. Turning her attention back to Peyton, she said, "It wasn't Evan's fault, so you can stop glaring at him." Peyton let go of her scowl as Brooke said, "She keeps stalling the divorce."

Evan's voice came from across the room, where he was now standing at the window overlooking Times Square. "She can't seem to make up her damn mind about anything. At first she didn't want the condo, now she wants the condo. Then, she wanted to go to marriage counseling, now thinks counseling's a waste of time and money. Didn't want Livvie, now she wants Livvie." He expelled a resigned sigh. "And it's only gotten worse since I started seeing Brooke." A look passed between the two of them, a look so intense that Peyton had to look away.

Peyton sympathized with the man. She'd been with Jake when he'd been going through something similar with Nicki. A practical She Devil, that one. "I'm sorry. I've been on the fringe of a custody suit. I know how messy they can get."

Evan turned to look at her with a new appreciation. "Brooke said that you didn't have kids."

"I don't. I dated a guy back in high school that did. His daughter meant a lot to me. His ex wanted nothing to do with their daughter and then miraculously when he had someone new in his life that did, she had a change of heart."

At the same time their gazes shifted to his daughter. Olivia lay cradled against Brooke's chest, completely content, as if she belonged there. Evan appeared at Peyton's side, continuing to watch his daughter, unable to take his eyes off of her, Brooke as well. "I understand why you mean so much to Brooke."

"Likewise." Together they watched as Brooke set Olivia down on the countertop, brandishing a lollipop out of a drawer. Olivia's eyes lit up and she gave Brooke a toothy smile. It was too adorable for words. "So, Mr. Kincaid," she began, returning her attention to the man at her side. "What are your intentions?"

Evan's eyes remained locked on Brooke as he stated matter-of-factly, "I intend to marry her."

Of all the things Peyton had expected Evan to say, that hadn't been it. His face didn't turn an alarming shade of green, nor did he stutter over the words. How novel. "That's brave of you considering what you're presently going through. Shouldn't you have, like, a cooling off period or something? A few months to revel in your return to bachelordom?"

Evan shook his head. "Why bother? When something's right you know." He slid her a side glance. "Isn't that how is it with you and Lucas? Brooke said you've known he was the one since high school."

Peyton was quiet for a moment while she thought about that. "I thought so. Now I can't be so sure. Besides, I'm sure you thought your wife was the one, too."

"Touché. At one point I thought that Rebecca and I were perfect for one another. It took me a few years to discover out that wasn't so. But you and Lucas… you spent time apart. You had time to change, fall in love again. You were drawn back to him. That's got to count for something."

"Maybe. No matter how many times I give him my heart, he stomps all over it."

Evan didn't know what to say to that—he didn't know Lucas personally, after all—so he offered with a helpless roll of his shoulders, "We're a complicated gender."

"You don't seem complicated."

Evan laughed, a warm and inviting sound, kind of like Evan himself. Peyton suddenly found herself jealous of her best friend, but, at the same time, bursting with happiness for her. "But I am, Peyton. Like, take football, for instance. I'm a man. I watch it. Understand the rules, even. But for the life of me I cannot play the game. Tried and failed. Again and again and again. Possess two left feet and icicles for fingers. I had no choice but to surrender, throw in the towel. I just had to. There just wasn't a point, unless total embarrassment was my aim. Ruined my father's dreams of my going pro."

Peyton tried to mask a giggle, but it erupted from her throat, prompting Evan to throw her a bemused look. "So, you're saying that, as a man, you're completely useless?"

"Yes! No! Not cool," he said, wagging his finger at her. "And, you know, I like peanut butter, but not peanuts." Peyton scoffed. "Yeah, figure that one out." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, and I like that home channel. Not HDTV, but… oh, what is it? You know what I'm talking about. All you girls like to watch it." He looked over at Brooke. "What's that network channel I like, Brooke?"

"HGTV," Brooke answered with a slight shake of her head. "Honestly, I worry, Evan. I really do."

The grin he shot Brooke was so sinister, it made even Peyton blush. Then, he said, "Honey, if I was anything but straight, you'd be on your back a lot less."

"Evan!" Brooke and Peyton chastised at once.

Evan laughed at the two women, ignoring their reproachful looks. "So, ladies, I don't know about you, but I could use sustenance. My treat," he said, patting his stomach, as if to assuage his hunger.

Brooke lifted Olivia off the cabinet, telling Evan, "I should make you stay indoors for a week."

"In bed?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful for the idea.

Brooke pushed his chest playfully as he waggled his eyebrows at her. "Ugh, you're horrible."

"It's part of my charm," he said, lifting her hand to brush a kiss to her fingertips.

"Something that you have in excess," Brooke told Evan as he lifted Olivia from her arms.

Peyton, watching them, ached for Lucas, their playfulness and their tender affections toward one another. She didn't know why they had to make sustaining a relationship so hard when Brooke and Evan made it look so easy, so natural.

After grabbing her handbag off the counter, Brooke made sure that her cell phone and wallet were tucked inside. Her bag in one hand, she latched onto Peyton's wrist with the other. "Come on, you. You're coming along and you're going to have fun. No talk of Lucas or that job offer or any of that stuff. Not tonight."

Peyton snatched her own handbag from the sofa and reluctantly, let Brooke pull her toward the door. "I doubt I'll be much fun."

"Nonsense," Evan said, leading the way out into the hallway. "I'll have you laughing and having the time of your life by the end of the night if I have to put my underwear on my head to accomplish it."

Peyton gave Brooke a look of complete horror as they followed Evan to the elevator. "Tell me he's not serious."

"Of course not," Brooke assured Peyton, patting her arm, before adding, "Evan doesn't even wear underwear."

Lucas had spent the last five days feeling sorry for himself. But had he attempted to rectify the situation? Hardly. He hadn't even called Peyton. Though, he was pretty sure if he had, his calls would be ignored and any messages he left would go unanswered. Even Lily was making him feel guilty for what had transpired with Peyton. Which was why he'd come to school and closed himself off in his office. He couldn't bear being at the apartment, only to be ignored by a four year old.

But he wasn't alone now, was he? No, his solitary confinement had been upended by Brooke Davis, no doubt on some misbegotten mission to tear him a new asshole. _This was going to be swell_, he thought as he waited for her to come in.

Brooke inspected Lucas for a long moment, noting that he was in dire need of a shave and could probably use a decent night's sleep, too. He looked like hell, she almost felt sorry for him. But she wasn't here to hold his hand and pat his back—she was here to get Lucas and Peyton back together. Again. "Is this a pity party for one or can I crash?" she asked, noticing for the first time that he held a bottle of whiskey in his right hand.

Lucas, unable to say anything, said nothing at all. There were no words. He had let Peyton leave, watched her walk away. Moreover, he had told her to go. Again. He thought he had gotten wiser in the four years since high school; clearly he had been deluding himself. He was doomed to make the same mistake again and again—let Peyton go, no thanks to his own stupidity, his own paralyzing fear of not being who she needed, not being good enough. Not being enough, period.

"So, Peyton flies the coop and you resort yourself to sulking and getting shitfaced?"

It was a rhetorical question. He knew that, but he answered anyway. Well, he attempted to. "What else am I supposed to do, Brooke?" he asked. Because short of groveling, he really didn't know what to do.

"You're supposed to fight for her!" she bellowed. "I'm sure she's thinking that she's not worth your trouble. That you had your fun and that was that. You let her go, Lucas. It's became quite the thing with you. It's no wonder she left. You didn't ask her to stay. You didn't promise her forever. You didn't promise her _anything_. You told her to go so she went." She glared at him, shaking her head in disappointment. "I expected more from you. Even worse, _Peyton_ expected more from you."

Lucas spun in his chair to face her. He didn't like the look that greeted him, that look of defeat, of utter despair. He saw that look everyday he looked in the mirror. He didn't want to see it reflected in his friend's eyes, especially when her eyes were focused on him. Brooke's heart was in the right place, that he knew. She had found happiness and she was seeking to secure the same for Peyton. He didn't fault her that.

However, a part of him wanted Peyton to be the one giving him the impassioned speech, wanted to see the despair in her eyes. Okay, maybe not. But if he saw how much he disappointed her, he could make her promises. He could. He _would_.

"Do you want her to stay gone for another four years? Forever? Could you handle that?" Brooke didn't want to throw up her hands and declare all hope lost, but with each passing second that Lucas sat before her unmoving, unable to summon up nary a word, she wasn't seeing another alternative. "Have you learned _nothing_?" She turned away toward the door. Maybe Evan had a friend they could introduce Peyton to. It was worth checking into. After Peyton got over Lucas, of course.

Lucas heard the clack-clack of Brooke's heels as she retreated toward the door. Brooke was giving up on him just as Peyton had. And just like that a light bulb went off in his head—he knew what he had to do. Something he should've done a long time ago, _years_ ago.

Opening the drawer of his desk, Lucas pushed papers this way and that, lifted folders and pamphlets until he finally unearthed the box containing the ring that he had once contemplated giving to Peyton. He had thought to save it for Lily, but the more he thought about it, turned it over in his head, he had no doubt that his sister would be content with him giving it to Peyton, seeing it on her finger. He set the box down on the desk, steepling his fingers to stare at it.

Brooke stepped forward, eyes wide as she gleaned the contents of the box. "Is that what I think it is?"

Lucas opened the box, showing her. "What do you think? Think she'll marry me?"

"And this would be your office," Brian said with a flourish of his hand, pushing the door wide.

Peyton peeked beneath Brian's arm then ducked underneath to enter the room. It was large and spacious. A corner office that overlooked Hollywood Boulevard. Breathtaking, really. "I don't know what to say," she muttered as she stood at the window, admiring the view, the stream of cars, the surrounding buildings. She could take the job just for this, for the view. But she knew she wouldn't, knew she _couldn't_. For as much as Los Angeles had to offer, it lacked the one thing that she needed—Lucas.

"I have an idea." Brian startled her by coming up behind her. He leaned in close, so close that she could smell his aftershave, feel the prickling from the stubble breaking the surface of his cheek. "Say yes, Peyton," he whispered in her ear. His hands stroked down her arms, making her skin crawl. At one time his touch had inflamed her, but that was before he left, before she lost their baby, before she found her home in another man's arms. _Before_.

"No, I can't," she said, extricating herself from his arms. "I can't do this, Brian," she told him, hoping that he was as smart as she thought he was and got the gist of her statement without her having to repeat herself, or worse, delve further into explanation.

Annoyance flickered across his face. Much to Peyton's dismay, he crossed his arms, leaned back against the desk and said, "Okay. Care to tell me why?"

"There are a thousand reasons. Where do I start?"

Brian was smarter than that. He wasn't going to take a vague excuse like that. Deep down he knew her reason, knew that her heart was engaged elsewhere. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Him? Him, who?" she needled, even though she knew precisely the him they were referring. Lucas had been a constant conflict in their relationship, however brief it was. She'd set him aside, but never set him out of her heart. When she'd attempted to move on with Brian, it had felt like a betrayal to Lucas. As much as she'd endeavored to give her relationship with Brian a chance, forget Lucas and put the past behind her, she couldn't. Much to both Brian's annoyance and her own.

"Him," Brian declared flatly, straightening. "Lucas." Brian ground out the name, his face contorting in a manner that, if Peyton didn't know any better, she could swear actually caused him physical discomfort. You went back home for him, didn't you?"

Peyton shook her head. "No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous." He gave her a sour look. Finally, she relented. "Not at first, no. I went home for me because this—this job, this town—wasn't working for me. It never did. I went home for my friend's wedding and Lucas… seeing him again made me realize what I want, what I always wanted. Him." She met his eyes. They were trained on her, on her words. "Not that I ever stopped wanting him." Brian snorted. As an afterthought, Peyton told him, "We never would've worked out, Brian."

"You didn't give it a chance to work out, Peyton. You were still hung up on him. I could've gave you the moon and it still wouldn't have made a difference." He pushed away, stalking toward her. Grasping her arms in a tight grip, he said, "Say yes. Come work for me. Give this job, this town, _us_ another chance."

"I can't. I love him. I've always loved him. I came here so that I could make sure that I made the right decision, so that I didn't have any regrets. And I have. I can't take the job. My life's in Tree Hill, with Lucas."

Brian resigned himself that he was getting tossed over once more. Stepping back, he murmured, "Back to Lucas."

"I'm sorry," Peyton apologized, though she didn't know quite why. She shouldn't have to make apologies for following her heart. She just didn't want to hurt Brian anymore than she had already. At the door, she spun back around to face him. This was the last time she'd see him, therefore she planned to leave him with a clear conscience. "There's something I never told you." Brian lifted his head, rapt. "I don't know why I'm telling you now, after so much time has passed. I guess I just want you to know. After we broke up… after you left… I found out I was pregnant."

Brian stared at her, his mouth agape in shock. Words failed him for a few moments as he grasped her words, their meaning. "Do I—do we—?"

"No," she answered in a soft, quiet voice. "I lost it before I could contact you. Then, I just didn't see the point. But seeing you now… I thought you deserved to know."

"Thank you. For telling me," he gasped. Had Peyton maintained the pregnancy through to the end, they would be having a much different conversation. That thought nearly knocked Brian off his feet. He pasted a smile on his face for her benefit. "If you ever change your mind about the job…"

"I won't."

Brian ignored her, insisting, "The offer stands. If something leads you back out to L.A., call me."

Peyton had only been back in her hotel room for twenty minutes when the knock on the door startled her from her silent bemusement of the skyline. She cast a glance at her packed suitcases piled up on the bed as she made her way across the room. Opening the door, she expected to find a bellboy standing there—the one that she had called for—but instead she found Lucas leaning against the doorjamb. "What are you doing here?" she snarled, the words flying out of her mouth of their own volition. Without a word, Lucas stalked past her into the room, not bothering to wait for an invitation. "Of course you can come in, Lucas. Happy to see you."

"Don't get smart, Peyton. You know why I'm here," he told her, watching as she shut the door.

Crossing her arms, she sneered disdainfully, "Actually, no, I don't. Enlighten me. Why are you here? What could you possibly have to say that you haven't already?"

The last was said with a scowl, which, in all honesty, he deserved. He was an ass of the highest caliber and didn't begrudge her her anger. It was warranted and he deserved to suffer the brunt of it as long as necessary. But until she could get past his temporary insanity, she was just going to have to deal with his presence and listen to what he came to say. Because he didn't fly two thousand miles to be deterred.

"And how did you know where to find me?" As he opened his mouth to answer her, she took a gander herself, holding her hand to stop him. "No, no, let me guess. This has Brooke written all over it."

Lucas smirked, pleased with himself. "You know, Brooke. She's been trying to cart us off to the altar for years."

"To no avail," she grumbled, her heart crumbling in her chest at his cavalier use of the word _altar_. "You still didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?" she intoned, enunciating each word.

"I want to marry you." Lucas closed his eyes and groaned, unable to believe that he had blurted out the words so unceremoniously like that. No finesse. No terms of endearment. No damn ring or bended knee. What romantic notions he had. It was no wonder she kept on jetting off to Los Angeles.

"What?" Peyton squeaked. Surely she hadn't heard him right. And even if she had… _what?_

Lucas threaded his fingers through his hair. "I didn't mean to just say it like that. I had the whole thing planned. Ring, bended knee, a speech." He dug into his pocket showing her several scraps of paper with his scribbling all over them. "I don't need a script to tell you know I feel, Peyton." He chucked the papers into the trashcan as she watched him with those big eyes of hers. "I wanted to tell you how much I've missed you—how much both Lily and I have missed you. How my apartment's not the same without you. How much I miss going to bed at night fighting you for the remote, waking up in the morning freezing my balls off because you hog all the blankets. Tell you that I've been a complete bear to everyone since you left. How I shouldn't have let you leave. Not the first time, not this last time." Lucas paused, heaved a sigh. "But things are different now. I'm not an eighteen year old dipstick—"

"No, you're still a dipstick," she interrupted.

He smiled wanly. "Okay. Fine. I'm still a dipstick. But I'm not going to just stand back and let you go. Not this time." He stretched out his arms. "This time I'm fighting. For a lifetime."

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she yelled at him, looking around for something to chuck at him. "You can't propose marriage!"

"Why not?" Lucas demanded, affronted.

"Because… because… because I don't like you much right now." She moved away from the wall, fearing that if she didn't her legs would give out and she would crumple into his arms, succumbing to his proposal without so much as an apology. And she planned to have her apology, dipstick or not. "You can't ask me to marry you because you don't trust me. Because you're only proposing because I'm here, because I ran away from you." _With good reason,_ she added silently.

"I am not!" he objected. "And I can't believe you would even think so."

"Lucas, your grand gestures are always fueled by something like this." Peyton turned her back to him, facing the window. She struggled to gain control of her breathing, but she was gasping for breath. Tears were stinging her eyes, but she would not let him see her cry. She wouldn't shed a single tear until he left, taking his inconsiderate marriage proposal with him.

Peyton closed her eyes, waiting to hear the sound of the door opening and closing. Lucas was so quiet that she hadn't even heard him move until he was behind her, his hands on her arms, pulling her against his chest. "I make mistakes, Peyton. Perhaps I make more than most, but it's why you love me. I'm weak and damaged. Just like you. We might drive each other crazy and I might continuously drive you away, but I know that I want you in my life, through the good and bad, through the light and the dark, through it all. I want you by my side." He spun her to face him. "I want you as my wife, Peyton. And neither one of us is leaving this hotel room until you agree to marry me."

"I don't know if I can, Lucas."

His brows drew together in frustration. "Why the hell not?" he growled. Oh, she was just lucky that she was worth all the trouble!

Pushing him away, she said, "Because you didn't ask, you moron!" She waved her hands in the air. "You just don't go around saying that you want to marry someone and expect them to fall at your feet." She poked a finger into his chest. "It doesn't work like that. After all the crap that you put me through I deserve candles and fireworks and a diamond ring that will make Brooke Davis weep."

He grinned at her as he fell back onto the bed. "Candles and fireworks, huh?" he asked, pulling Peyton to stand between his legs, the fight flowing right out of her. He was wearing her down, he could see it in her eyes.

Peyton blushed. "I got carried away. I don't need candles and fireworks. One or the other will suffice. I'm not picky."

"And the diamond?"

Peyton sighed, dropping beside him on the bed. "It doesn't have to make Brooke weep," she conceded. "Just me," she added meekly.

Nodding, Lucas scrambled to his feet. He waited for Peyton to meet his eyes, but she never did, completely content to stare at his feet. Right to the point, it was. Extracting the small black box from his pocket, Lucas dropped to his knee.

"Lucas, you can't mean to—" Peyton said, trying to smack the ring box out of his hand. She'd honestly thought he was just bluffing!

Lucas pushed her hands away. "I can and _I am_. Now be quiet and let me do this." He snickered at the roll of Peyton's eyes. Opening the box, Lucas pulled out the engagement ring as he started, "It's always been you, Peyton. Throughout everything, all the sleepless nights and bad dates and years spent apart, I was waiting for you. When you left the last time, you took my heart with you. When you came home a few months ago I thought I was finally going to get it back. But I don't want it back. I'm entrusting you with it. Now. Forever. That is, if you'll have me." To heed further refusals, Lucas took her hand, Lucas sliding the ring onto her finger, his hand remarkably steady, Peyton's not so much. Grasping her hands in his to steady them, he met her teary eyes. "Marry me, Peyton."

She couldn't breathe or blink or move, shocked and bewildered she was. Lucas had proposed! He had come after her and proposed being her husband for the remainder of their lives. It was more than she could ever hope for. Peyton didn't answer him right away, entranced she was by the ring he'd slid onto her finger. She'd seen it once before, so very long ago. Finding her voice, she whispered, "This was Karen's."

"I've had it since graduation. I was going to propose before you left for L.A." When she looked at him, wondering, he added, "I didn't because my reasons weren't honorable. I loved you, and I wanted to marry you, yes, but my reason was entirely selfish—I wanted to make sure that you came home. I figured if we were meant to be together, it would happen eventually, so I tucked the ring away for a rainy day."

Peyton's eyes shifted from the ring, back to him, skeptically. "So, why are you asking me now? More selfish reasons? So Brian can't?"

He guess he deserved that. "I'm asking you to marry me now because I can't go another day without you. I love you, Peyton and I want to make a life with you."

After a moment of silent contemplation, she grinned at him and said, "I'm not letting you get out of this. I will drag you bound and gagged to the altar if I have to."

"You won't have to. I'll be a willing participant. I'll be there forty-eight hours before I'm due." He dragged her hand to cover his heart. "Swear." He took a jagged breath, asking, "So, is this a yes? Will you marry me?"

"Haven't I told you before, Lucas? It always is."

He pulled her to him then, pressing a kiss to her lips. Before he could deepen it, seek more of her mouth, she was pushing him away. "You can't just buy me fancy baubles and propose every time we have an argument, you know. Once we're married there will be no more of that."

"Yeah, well, you won't be able to fly off to L.A. to get away from me, either," he pointed out, giving her a dour look. He had to curb the impulse to stick his tongue at her, which was Lily's reaction to everything.

"And speaking of running off to L.A…" Peyton tapped her foot impatiently, waiting. "I still haven't heard an apology."

"Apology!" he boomed. "For what? Okay, I know was an ass—"

"There isn't a size proportionate enough to encompass how big of an ass you were."

Lucas huffed, but relented. His apology should've came first, he knew. "I'm sorry I was such an ass. I overreacted to the idea of you leaving and working for Brian. It was the working for Brian that really got to me, though."

Looping her arms around his neck, Peyton pressed her lips to his, and told him she'd declined the job offer. Then she confessed her reasons for entertaining the idea to begin with. "Well, when you put it like that, it makes perfect sense."

"You never gave me a chance to explain. You just went off like a bottle rocket and that was that. Must you be so temperamental?"

"I guess that'll have to be your first duty as my wife, curbing my temperament."

Peyton thought about that for a second. Her voice dropping to a seductive timbre, she started slipping the buttons on his shirt through their holes. "You know, I was actually hoping for a duty that requires less clothing. Think of the fun to be had."

"Sounds interesting. Tell me more," he feigned innocence, reaching for the hem of her shirt. A knock at the door hindered their plans. They each expelled a groan of frustration. "Who the hell is that? It better not be Brian. I won't be responsible for what I'll do to him."

Peyton patted his cheek as she told him, "It's just the bellboy. I had called for him to come and fetch my bags right before you got here."

As she walked to the door, he glanced around, landing at the bags piled on the bed. Surely those suitcases hadn't been there when he'd first come into the room. Lucas scratched his head, moving behind Peyton as she conversed with the bellboy. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a fifty dollar bill, slipping it into the bellboy's palm. "Thanks, but we don't need you after all, man."

After the bellboy had shuffled down the hallway, Lucas turned to find Peyton staring at him. "I have a plane to catch," she told him blithely as he slipped the privacy sign onto the handle, before closing the door, securing the lock.

Lucas shook his head as he tossed her his cell phone. "No, you don't. Not tonight, anyway. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. I haven't really decided—"

Peyton cut him off with, "Lily—?"

"Is fine. She's with Skills and Bevin. They told me not to rush back."

"Not even my husband yet and he's already bossing me around," Peyton muttered, dialing information. Waiting for the call to connect to the airline, she told him, "You're not the boss of me, Lucas Scott."

"Details," he said, linking his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans to pull her against him. He began divesting her of her clothes as she spoke to the airline about rescheduling her flight. By the time she'd completed the call, he had her jeans at her ankles, her bra unsnapped and her shirt rucked up over her breasts.

Peyton pushed Luke's phone to his chest as he took a step back to admire his handiwork. "So, what are we going to do now?"

Lucas gave her what could only be described as a lascivious smile. Scooping her into his arms, he threw on the bed, covering her body with his as her shrieks echoed through the room. As giggles wracked her body, Lucas pushed her hair out of her eyes, murmuring, "I should've done this a lot sooner. Married you, I mean."

Smile fading, chest heaving with the exertion, Peyton looked up into Luke's face, it dawning her quickly that he was serious, that he sincerely regretted not putting a ring on her finger sooner, dragging her to the altar. Playing with the collar of his shirt, admitting, "To be honest I didn't make it easy on you."

"I could've fought harder, I could've—" Peyton slapped her hand over his mouth.

"The past is the past, Luke. We can't change it, but we can make something of our future. We can be as close, as passionate, as happy as we want to be." Peyton dropped her hand. "I've seen Brooke with Evan and I want what they have. They aren't married, I know that, but they're happy and content. They don't make their relationship any harder than it needs to be. I want that for us. We've always made everything more complicated… _more_. I want us to be happy, Luke."

"We'll never be without problems, Peyton," Lucas felt the need to point out. No relationship was sunshine and sprinkles. And theirs certainly wouldn't be, of that he had no doubt.

"I know that, Lucas. But we can decide here and now whether we want to make a few tweaks to our relationship." She paused, adding, "Our impending marriage. Do we want to go on before or do you want to be better, happier?"

Lucas didn't have to think twice. He knew what he wanted. He wanted _her_— healthy, happy. He wanted her to be _his_. He didn't care what kind of vows and promises he had to make. He'd make sure to live up to every single one of them if it meant making Peyton happy, if it meant that she went into their marriage without a single doubt.

"I want everything you want." Leaning close, so close that they were nose to nose, he whispered, "I want it all, Peyton."


	12. This Love Affair Is Never Gonna End

Disclaimer: If I was the engineer on this train things would've turned out quite differently.

Spoilers/Warnings: My very own version of S5 that includes some very vague references to the S5 spoilers swirling about. Also there's a major character death because this is how I would've liked it all to turn out.

Summary: It's been four years since graduation and they're all coming home for the wedding of one of their own. In a single weekend friendships are renewed and one couple slowly begin to mend their broken relationship.

A/N: I'm sure that you all thought that you weren't going to get this epilogue. Truthfully it's been sitting on my computer near completion since the last chapter was posted. Don't yell! _Please._ I got so bogged down with school that I hadn't had time to put the finishing touches on it. But here it is, better late than never, eh? So I'm hoping that you all enjoy how the story ends and, once again, I just want to thank you all for the reviews/support. And for putting up with my sporadic updates for well over a year.

—

**11. This Love Affair Is Never Gonna End **(Epilogue)

A scream penetrated the apartment, forcing Lucas from the comfort of his bed and into the living room on quick feet. "Peyton! What? What happened?" He stopped short, four heads swiveling, regarding him curiously. Peyton, Brooke, Haley and Bevin stood in the kitchen, fawning over a box that sat on the kitchen table. "It's nine o'clock in the damn morning," he growled at them. _On a Sunday_, he almost added. As if that mattered, in the scheme of things.

"Sorry, Luke," they grumbled, managing to at least look contrite. Good. Because this was just getting ridiculous. His life, much less his apartment, hadn't been the same since he'd proposed to Peyton. Once they'd gotten back from Los Angeles and they'd shared the news of the engagement with their friends, the planning of the wedding had commenced. Since then it'd been chaos. Churches and reception halls and table centerpieces, not to mention headaches. Lots and lots of head splitting pain. Information overload.

"If I knew I was going to have to put up with seeing the three of you during the course of this wedding, we would've eloped in Vegas." The four women gasped. It was only Peyton that seemed amused by the concept, the smile tugging at her lips a dead giveaway. "Oh, chill out. It's not going to happen _now_." They regarded him with silent but deadly looks, compelling him to ask, "So, what's in the box?" It was a question he regretted immediately. Stupid, stupid mouth.

They began chattering at once, so much so that he had trouble following what was being said. He caught bits and pieces of garbled explanations, none of which he understood. He should just take himself back to his room, seeking shelter in his bed, far away from his bride and her nettlesome attendants. Unfortunately, he had promised Peyton to at least feign interest in the wedding details. Even if it killed him. The things the woman made him agree to.

He moved to stand beside Peyton as she lifted the lid off the box, revealing a dress that looked to be made of lace—the portion that he could see, anyway. "Is that Lily's dress?" he asked, knowing that Peyton wouldn't be showing him _her_ dress. No doubt Brooke had the thing under lock and key anyhow.

Lucas felt his eyes roll back into his head as Brooke started spouting off about fabrics and colors that he didn't care one fig about. But he schooled himself to look interested because Peyton was expecting him to look so. "That sounds nice," he heard himself saying once she was finished, her mouth snapping shut, her eyes zeroing in on him as if expecting his thoughts and opinions. The women exchanged a look that shot off alarms in his head. They all then flashed him matching smiles that made him dizzy on his feet.

"I told you," Brooke told Peyton, holding out her hand. "Pay up."

Lucas watched as Peyton greased Brooke's palm with a crisp, hundred dollar bill. Wait, they had bet on him? Bet on him to—_what?_ He couldn't fathom their reasons for doing so; they were supposed to be concerned with frilly stuff—dresses, flowers and the like. They weren't supposed to be gambling! Then, nothing about this wedding was proper. "What's that about?" his mouth inquired before his brain had a chance to stop it.

"Brooke bet me that you couldn't stand there five minutes inquiring about the wedding before you went off to your shiny, happy place of disillusion. I insisted that you could because you promised, but the second that Brooke started talking about Lily's dress your eyes glazed over and you were dead to us."

He scratched his face, needing to do something with his hands, save from strangling both women within an inch of their lives. Swiping a hand at the dress box, he said, "This is your arena. I was content with the beach idea. Khakis and bare feet. I had no qualms with that." He turned to glare at Brooke. "But once Madame Fashion Designer got involved it's been tulle and arches and candles and… and… and ALL THAT CRAP," he said, gesturing with his hand to the living room that was filled floor to ceiling, wall to wall with wedding decorations and things that no man should set eyes on until his wedding day. If ever.

Silence ensued at the end of his outburst. "Well," Brooke exclaimed, "aren't you just full of happiness and light!"

Lucas would've laughed were she not talking about him. Instead, he scowled and was contemplating a growl when Peyton touched his arm. He softened as her demure smile breached his defenses. He wanted the wedding to be over, her bridesmaids back where they belonged, with their boyfriends and husbands. He just wanted her to himself already. As his _wife_.

Peyton rolled her eyes at Brooke and Lucas. They'd been arguing for weeks, more so when Evan didn't accompany her on her trips to Tree Hill. When Brooke, as her maid-of-honor, had stepped in to help her with wedding plans that Lucas didn't care about, he had taken offense. He had been pretty mum about it, but he had complained to Skills who had told Bevin who had told her.

It wasn't that he was busting at the seams to help her decide between roses or lilies or any of those other minute details, he was a little miffed that Brooke was her go-to person. Sure, they talked at night at length about the wedding preparations, but it wasn't the same. Not when she was calling Brooke at least twenty times a day, calls that used to be to _him_, calls that he missed receiving. He felt inconsequential at times. Especially when the bridesmaids were underfoot.

Patting her hand, Lucas told Peyton, "Sorry. I should've known when I heard all the squawking that it was wedding business." Lucas pressed a kiss to Peyton's cheek, then turned on his heel and started for the door—the front door. Fresh air. Sunshine. No cackling women.

—

Peyton was sitting in bed, bridal magazines strewn across the bed when Lucas got home late that night. When he stumbled into the room, she looked up from her magazine. Marking her place with her finger, she closed the magazine, pressing it to her chest, watching him bump into the wall, the dresser before finally falling onto the floor, missing the bed—his intended target—entirely. "I see you've had a busy night."

"A little," he said, grunting as he stretched out on the floor. After a few moments of utter silence, he said, "I missed dinner."

"Lily and I had take out." Peyton tossed her magazine onto the floor along with the others before she slid across the bed to peer down at him. His eyes were closed as far as she could tell, his arm slung over his eyes. He reeked of smoke and alcohol and cheap perfume.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—Fergie and I played a game and somehow wound up at TRIC."

Peyton reached for his hand, moving his fingers around. "No, they're not broken."

Lucas snapped his eyes open. "What do my fingers have to do with anything?"

"I just wondered if they were broken, if that was the reason you didn't call to tell me where you were, when you were going to be back." Peyton watched as Lucas closed his eyes once more, the brightness of the lights irritating his retinas no doubt. She dimmed the lights for him, taking a small sliver of delight when he murmured his thanks. "I take it you had fun with the bar bimbos."

His head lolled back and forth. "They weren't you." One thing could be said for being drunk: honesty. "I miss you is all, Peyton. For four months I've had to fight Brooke and Haley for your attention… but mostly Brooke."

Peyton smiled despite herself. Lucas would no doubt hate himself in the morning for confessing so much. If he remembered this conversation at all. "So what you're saying is that you're jealous? Of Brooke?"

"Of course I am! You call her asking about tablecloths and cake layers, stuff that you should be asking _me_. Not that I actually care about that stuff, but I'd like to be included, for you to at least pretend that my opinion matters."

Peyton sighed. Why couldn't the man just tell her these things? "Why didn't you say something? Luke, this is our wedding. Do you think I like asking Brooke's opinion over yours?"

Lucas made a gesture with his hand. "Weddings are girl things. I don't know why I want to be included. I guess I just like feeling that you need me. I want to be with you when you learn that the videographer that you wanted is available, seeing you close your eyes when you're at the florist smelling flowers, trying to decide which goes better with the color scheme, tulips or daisies or daffodils or whatever." His eyes popped open, seeking her out. "What is the color scheme anyway?"

Peyton was a tad baffled that he wanted to know, since he had never inquired about her color choice before. "Black, white and silver," she told him, a little apprehensively, preparing herself for a scoff and a look of horror, the reaction that she'd gotten from Brooke.

"Classy."

Peyton watched as he struggled to stand up. She reached out her hand to help him as she agreed, "I think so, too." He plopped onto the bed beside her, however unceremoniously.

Lucas looked over his shoulder at her, pulling off his shoes, asking, "What does Brooke say about that?"

Peyton remembered arguing with Brooke over the colors in front of the wedding planner. When the poor woman had attempted to agree with her, Brooke had bitten the woman's head off, informing her that theirs was a private conversation. Brooke had tried swaying her to choose blue or green, even stooping so low as to suggest yellow—anything but black. Finally, Peyton put her foot down, informing her best friend that this was her wedding and that if she wanted her bridesmaids to wear lime green, they would. And with smiles on their faces. Luckily that had ended Brooke's disinclination toward black; she'd balked at the prospect of wearing lime green. "Brooke wanted bold and bright, but I'm not big a fan of fuchsia."

"That's my girl." Lucas laid back, limbs heavy, eyes falling shut of their own accord. "I am so tired," he murmured.

"Drunk, too," Peyton offered, laughing softly. Pulling on his arm, she urged, "Come on. Let's go to bed, you big drunk lug."

Lucas climbed beneath the sheets, a smile curving his lips as Peyton stripped him down to his boxers. "I hope you don't plan on taking advantage of me."

A giggle escaped Peyton's lips. "You wish. Though, it's doubtful you would know one way or the other, considering the state you're in."

"I suppose you're right."

Peyton pulled the sheets up to his chest and by the time she leaned down to kiss his cheek, he was passed out. Gathering her magazine off the floor, she turned off the lamp and left Lucas to sleep it off while she tried to make a decision about wedding favors.

The morning of her wedding, Peyton was pacing the floor of the apartment, glancing at the clock every other minute, making sure that the batteries hadn't stopped working. How long did it take to pick up one measly thing from the pharmacy? Really! But that was her mistake, sending a man to do a woman's job. He'd probably gotten sidetracked by something shiny and blonde with ample breasts.

Finally the knock that she had been anticipating came and she ran to the door. "Hey, I have the—" She cut Evan off, pulling him by the arm inside. "Ow!" he complained, rubbing his arm as he stared at her, perplexed.

"You got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, preceding her into the kitchen. "Though, I'd hate to see what you'd do to me had I not." Evan held out the paper bag. "One home pregnancy test." He pulled out a chair, dropped into it. "I still don't get why _I_ had to do this, why one of the girls couldn't."

"Because they would've camped outside my bathroom to wait for the results. I have no doubt that you can keep this a secret." Peyton was ripping into the box, then stopped to look at him. "Permitted that you didn't already tell Brooke."

Evan gave her a dour look. "Of course not. You threatened my man parts. Couldn't have that," he said, shrinking back fearing that she'd change her mind and maim him anyway. Just for kicks.

Peyton rolled her eyes, pushing the bag and box into his arms. "When I tell you, clock your watch."

"I feel dirty being privy to this subterfuge!" he yelled after her. As he stared at the booty in his hands, he asked, "Hey, are all pregnancy tests pink? That's, like, gender discrimination, isn't it?"

"Shut up, Evan! I can't pee when your babbling!"

Three minutes later he was watching Peyton pace the kitchen floor as she awaited the results. "I doubt you have to wait exactly five minutes. Aren't those things designed to tell you right away?"

"I don't know if I want to look. I mean, I want to know, don't get me wrong, but whatever the answer is it's going to put a damper on today. Positive, negative… it won't matter. I won't be happy with either outcome. And Lucas will wonder what is wrong, if I'm happy, if I have regrets and then I'll have to tell him… and, oh, God, what if he isn't ready for a baby?" She looked at him, her eyes bright with confusion and uncertainty. "What if he isn't ready for a baby, Evan?"

"You are buckets o' crazy, you know that?" Evan remarked dryly, not quivering when she sent him a stern look. "You can't _not_ look. You won't be able to concentrate on anything if you don't. Besides, you'll want to know whether or not to abstain from the champagne." Peyton nodded mutely as he checked his watch. "Your five minutes are up."

For the fiftieth time in twenty minutes Lucas checked his watch, scowled at the closed double doors at the back of the church, then turned to smile at the minister who kept huffing with impatience. Lucas didn't understand what his problem was. At least he wasn't the one who, for all looks, was getting jilted.

She was going to show. He had no doubt. Sure, it didn't look that way to their guests or to the minister, but she had to show. She would not stand him up at the altar—she wouldn't. She couldn't.

"This doesn't look good, Luke," Nathan whispered from beside him. He, too, kept checking his watch, noting the lateness of the bride. All the bridesmaids were accounted for, he had been told; it was just the bride that was missing-in-action, a fact he was trying not to dwell on.

Glaring at his brother, he hissed, "She'll be here," as the doors swung open and the bridesmaids bustled in. He didn't take his eyes off of them until they took seat in the pews deigned for them. He noted that Brooke looked especially uptight. Maybe she knew something…

"Maybe she got cold feet. It happens."

Nathan was trying to piss him off, Lucas decided. And he was succeeding. He was actually considering pummeling him into the wine colored carpet when the doors to the back of the church opened once more. Lucas held his breath, but no vision in white stood there. Instead it was a man who looked a lot like him—black tuxedo, on the verge of fainting.

He tipped his hat at Lucas before he stopped at the pews where the bridesmaids sat, speaking in a low voice to them. It was only when Brooke stood up and approached the tuxedo-clad man that Lucas noticed that he held a cell phone, which Brooke took with a little trepidation.

Lucas watched Brooke's face as she began to speak, her mood shifting from unease to shock to sheer happiness. Gesturing to the other girls to follow her, Brooke stepped into the aisle. She waved them on, spinning to face him. "She's on her way, Luke," she told him. "There was an unfortunate incident with the horse and buggy."

"Of course there was. And who's brainchild was that, I wonder?" Lucas glared at Brooke, despite the deep flushing of her cheeks.

"I thought it'd be romantic."

Lucas put his hands behind his back to suppress the urge to inflict some serious hurt Peyton's best friend. "Well, it's not so romantic when the bride is a half-hour late to her wedding."

"Point taken. I'm just gonna… go. Now. So that we can get this party started."

"You're still here," he said through clenched teeth.

She left, moseying down the aisle as quick as her legs would take her. Finally, she took off her shoes and ran the rest of the way.

"Serves you right for letting her help Peyton plan the wedding," Nathan piped in.

Lucas ignored his brother, choosing instead to watch the back doors of the church like a man possessed, with a ferocity that he couldn't shake. Fifteen minutes later, the orchestra began playing, the bridal party making their entrances, followed by Lily and James. The doors closed once more and the bridal march began to play. Lucas sucked in a breath. And waited.

With a flourish the doors swung wide and there stood his bride. Her face was obstructed by a thin lacy veil, but somehow he knew that beneath that scrap of fabric, her face was glowing and she was smiling. Escorting her up the aisle was her father. It had taken them a few weeks to get in touch with Larry, since he was out to sea. Peyton had spent day after day, night after night, pacing as she awaited word, her father's reaction to their engagement. When it came, in the form of an email, it only said, "About damn time. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As Larry handed Peyton off to him, he whispered, "She's my baby, Lucas. Take care of her."

"I will, sir." He took Peyton's hand, leading her up the two steps to the altar. The ceremony continued in a flurry of words, many of which didn't register until it came down to the vows.

He and Peyton had gone the traditional route, though they had entertained the idea of writing their own vows. Good thing, because Lucas highly doubted he would've been able to remember a single word, not with the thumping his heart sounding in his ears, drowning out all other sounds, including the minister's monotone musings.

Turning to face Peyton, he repeated the vows that the minister spoke, feeling each one with every breath he took, every beat of his heart. Peyton followed, saying her vows, making him wonder with every shaky word whether she was crying behind her veil. Dammit, he wished he could see her.

Finally, unable to take another moment of wondering, he stepped forward and lifted her veil, breathing out a sigh of relief that she wasn't crying. Although, her eyes were so glossy that at any moment she may start and not stop. "You weren't supposed to do that yet," she whispered, flashing him a dazzling smile.

"Stupid thing was in my way."

The minister cleared his throat as Nathan snickered behind Lucas. An elbow in the gut made Nathan quiet as Lucas told the minister, "Sorry. Go on."

The ceremony finished without further impediments and before he could blink, he was kissing his wife in front of their friends and family. As they parted and the priest presented them as Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Scott, Peyton murmured, "At last."

With eyes transfixed on the dance floor, watching as Peyton danced with her father, Brooke couldn't squelch her own desires to be married, to have all of this, her own happy ending. Her friends had it, now it was her turn. Unfortunately as far as prospects went, hers was married to another woman.

Not that she doubted for a second that Evan would secure his divorce—he would. After all he had expressed a desire to marry her, to have the kind of marriage with her that he hadn't had with his current wife. To her utter shame, the thought of marriage to Evan took told her constantly. She pictured their wedding, the ease with which they would settle into marriage, undoubtedly happy and content. Then other thoughts would take hold, her bearing his children, for instance. The prospect of having her own children—Evan's children—filled her with a delight she'd never known. She wondered if Peyton and Lucas would wait long to have children.

Her eyes turned to inspect all of her friends, now ensconced in happily unions, beginning to start their own families. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before Nathan and Haley added a brother or sister for James and she had no doubt that Lucas and Peyton would get started on their own family right away. Then, there were Bevin and Skills, who were already expecting their first child.

A moment later Brooke was stirred from her wayward thoughts when Peyton approached her table, asking, "Have you seen my husband?"

Brooke raised her brows at her best friend as Peyton fell into the chair next to her. "Oh, you like saying that a little too much." Husband had been rolling off Peyton's tongue adamantly since the church ceremony. It had been my husband this and my wonderful husband that. Quite nauseating it was.

"I really do," Peyton said, trying to wipe the smile off her face.

"How do we turn it off?" Brooke asked, leaning forward, trying to force the smile from Peyton's lips. "Well, it's official, your lips are stuck that way."

Peyton slapped Brooke's hands away. "Oh, stop it. Can't I be happy?"

"Of course you can. Just not to the point that it causes the rest of us to be sick to our stomachs," Brooke teased.

Peyton somehow suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "So, is that bottle of wine all for you or are you willing to share?"

Brooke stared at the half-empty bottle of wine before her. "I was toasting to you and Luke… only neither of you were around."

"Are you feeling left out?"

Brooke nodded, reaching for the bottle of wine. "I'm the last single friend. I'm going to be spinster Aunt Brooke, the one that scares all the children and hands out raisins and peanuts for Halloween."

"You're being ridiculous. You're dating a great guy who wants to marry you."

Brooke scoffed. "Sure, he does. _After_ he divorces the woman he's already married to. By the time that happens I'll be a dried up old maid with a broken uterus." Brooke uncorked the wine bottle, refilling her glass, feeling Peyton's gaze on her as she did so.

"You will not be the last. After all, there's Rachel." Peyton figured it was best to keep it to herself that Rachel's Hollywood boyfriend had been photographed ring shopping. That would do nothing but douse Brooke's already precarious esteem.

However, it brightened Brooke right up. "You're right! Rachel's a slut and it takes sluts forever to find men that appreciate that quality in a wife."

Peyton's lips thinned into a firm line. That wasn't quite what she meant when she mentioned Rachel, but at least Brooke didn't look so somber now. In fact, it seemed that the wine was beginning to affect her in a big way, if the flush in her face, the sway of her body was any indication.

All of a sudden, Brooke's hand shot across the table, covering Peyton's own, startling her. "I am happy for you, Peyton. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that," she assured Brooke. Squeezing her hand, she said, "At your wedding I'm going to do exactly what you're doing—I'm going to sit alone at a table and get drunk, toasting my best friend's good fortune."

Brooke shook her head. "You will not. At my wedding you will be pregnant, I have no doubt. You can get drink all the sparkling water that we'll have at our disposal—" Frowning, Brooke began looking around, exclaiming, "Where the hell is Evan? I haven't seen him since—"

"You threw him over for the wine?" Peyton laughed softly at the annoyed look that Brooke shot in her direction. She shook her head, stopping a passing waiter to grab a flute of champagne off his tray. "I haven't seen him for a while," she admitted, settling back in her chair. "The last time I saw him he was disappearing outside with Fergie and Skills. To decorate the car, I'm sure."

"They're probably corrupting my boyfriend, telling him all kinds of stuff about me from high school." As that statement festered, Brooke grabbed Peyton's arm, shrieking, "Oh, God, what if they're telling him all kinds of stuff about me from high school?!"

"They wouldn't do that, Brooke," Peyton reassured her. Then, wrinkling her face, amended, "Well, Fergie wouldn't, but Skills _totally_ would." Brooke nodded, frowning anew.

Brooke glanced at the dance floor where Lily and James were dancing. Until James began running in circles, prompting Nathan to storm the dance floor, snatching his son off the floor by the collar of his tuxedo jacket. For a second sheer terror entered the little boy's eyes, until Nathan set him back on his feet, ruffled his hair and left him to his dancing with a stern, "Don't run around girls in pretty dresses. It's not polite. Or attractive."

Jumping to her feet, it took Brooke a moment for the room to stop spinning. She waited until there was only one Peyton in her periphery before she informed her, "I'm going to go find him."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Peyton asked, concerned. Brooke swayed from side to side, clearly affected by her alcohol intake. "You don't look too steady on your feet."

"Just gotta walk it off is all." With a wave of her fingers, Brooke took herself off, leaving Peyton by her lonesome… and her glass of champagne. For a while she sat there, turning in her chair to watch the couples on the dance floor. After a while she grew restless and headed outside for a breath of fresh air. That's where she finally found Lucas. He was sitting on a bench with Lily on his lap.

"… so she's not going to be my mom now?"

"Peyton will be like your mom, but she won't be your mom. She'll do your hair and watch Hannah Montana with you and do those girly things with you—"

"—like the tea parties and dress up?"

"Yeah. Like those things—"

"—but I can't call her mom."

Peyton felt so dejected for the little girl. They were kindred spirits, having both lost their mothers at such young ages. She wanted to interrupt Lucas and tell them both that of course Lily could call her mom. Especially if it made her feel better. But she wouldn't tarnish Karen's legacy that way. Karen had been a wonderful mother to both Lucas and Lily; she would've been a wonderful mother-in-law as well.

Before Lucas could answer, Peyton intervened. "I think you can call me whatever it is that you want, Lily."

Lucas raised an eyebrow at Peyton, a smirk playing at his lips. "I think Peyton was spying on us, Lil," he told his sister as Peyton settled on the bench beside them.

"Lucas said that you're like my mom now, Peyton… except you're not."

Peyton heard the sadness and disappointment in the little girl's voice. Patting her leg, she urged Lily onto her lap so they were face-to-face. "Your mom was the best mommy ever. You wouldn't want to replace her with someone like me."

"But—"

Peyton shook her head, continuing, "We only get one mommy. And it hurts when she goes away. But you can't replace her. Not with me, not with anyone. I don't know why you'd even want to. Just because you don't have a mom, doesn't mean that you don't have plenty of people that love you. Like me and Luke. And Nathan and Haley, Skills and Bevin. I won't be your mom, but I can be _like_ your mom."

For a moment, Lily just stared at Peyton, not moving, not talking. Then she threw her arms around Peyton's neck, hugging her tight. "I love you, Peyton."

"I love you, too, pumpkin."

They were all startled from the moment they were sharing by the double doors being pushed open behind them. Spinning around, they found James standing there, breathless. "Lily! Fergie's playing Miley! Come _on_!" he shouted, dancing from one to the other in obvious excitement.

Lily bustled off of Peyton's lap, running to meet James at the door. Together they ran back into the ballroom, leaving Lucas and Peyton alone.

"Thank you for that," Lucas said, pulling Peyton against him.

Peyton smiled at him, nodding. "I would never want to replace your mom."

Lucas patted her knee. "I know."

"I think she's just confused, you know? You're _like_ her dad but not. And I'm the woman that's just married her like-dad. In any other situation I'd be her step mom and she's just trying to understand. It'll get easier."

Lucas expelled a deep sigh. "I know. I know I have to be patient. Just… what about when we have kids, our own family? She's going to be their aunt, not their big sister."

Peyton saw her opening. This is when she should broach the subject, tell him of her anxiety of that morning. How would he react? Would he be relieved? Would he share her longing for children? It was a subject that they'd never talked about, a subject that they had postponed until they married. Well, they were married. No time like the present. Swallowing past the lump that had lodged in her throat, she murmured, "Luke…"

But he was so busy talking, that he didn't hear her. "—I guess we'll just have to deal with that when it comes," he rambled on, oblivious to her distress.

"Lucas!" she said, a little louder, punctuating it with a tug on his shirt sleeve.

He immediately turned his attention to her, his body toward her giving her his undivided attention. "Huh?"

"Speaking of us starting our own family… there's something… I, um… this morning… see, the thing is… I thought…"

Touching her chin, Lucas lifted her face to him. "Hey, you've never been nervous to tell me anything. What's up?"

"I thought I was pregnant," she blurted without ceremony.

Lucas blinked, completely devoid of speech. It took him a few moments to find words to express himself. "But you're not?"

Peyton smiled at him and slowly shook her head. "I'd thought so, hoped so, really. I was late and that's just not usual for me." She sighed, an action that beheld her true feelings. "I took a test but it was negative." Lucas started to say something, but she stopped him. "I'm relieved because we never talked about this, whether we were ready, whether we wanted kids. I mean, _I_ do, I just didn't know if you—"

"—of course I want kids."

"We don't have to discuss this now—tonight. I just wanted to tell you before anyone else had the chance to." His eyebrow shot up, but other than that he had no other reaction, no questions. Good thing. She'd explain the whole Evan thing later; he'd understand.

They sat silent for a few moments before Lucas asked, "Are you disappointed?"

She tried to smile at him, but just… couldn't. She couldn't lie to him even if she wanted to. Which, she didn't. "A little." It wasn't a huge disappointment. Somewhere deep inside her heart she knew that the test was going to be negative. Afterward when she'd gotten her answer, she had cried, glad for Evan's presence for he consoled her. Then he told her to buck up, that Lucas had an entire lifetime to get her pregnant. That had cheered her right up, however crass it had sounded coming from Evan.

Lucas pressed a kiss to her temple. "You know, we can start working on getting you pregnant right away if you want."

Laughing, Peyton buried her face in his neck. "See, that's why I love you."

Standing up, she grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet beside her. Arm in arm, they returned to the party. However, once they entered the ballroom they found that no one missed them, that the party was going on without them. "You would think they would've sent out a search party for us," Lucas said, frowning.

"Well, you know we don't have to stay."

Lucas eyed her curiously. "Blow off our own reception? _Scandalous._"

"Wait until you hear what I have planned," Peyton whispered, pulling him back out the door.


End file.
